


Hellbound

by the_flame_and_hawks_eye



Series: Hellbound [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Drama, F/M, Homunculus!AU, Lust!Riza, Parental!RoyRiza to Ed and Al, Wrath!Roy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2018-05-25 04:12:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 36,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6179746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_flame_and_hawks_eye/pseuds/the_flame_and_hawks_eye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Roy Mustang's explosion at Laboratory 3 nearly kills both Wrath and Lust, Father deems both Roy and Riza Hawkeye as forces too strong to ignore. But rather than fight against them, he decides to fight with them... Faced with the rebirth of Wrath and Lust in the two soldiers, the Elric brothers and Team Mustang enter a desperate fight to save their King and Queen... before it's too late. AU canon-divergence fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Into Hell

As he himself slowly come to, Roy Mustang let out a low groan before he cautiously opened his eyes, only to squeeze them shut a beat later with a hiss when he was greeted by a blinding light. Gritting his teeth, he desperately tried to recall what happened and where he was, because it certainly was not the hospital. Trying to, at the very least, move and sit himself up, he discovered that his hands and legs were bound.

This was definitely not the hospital…

Then a small, "Sir," broke through the darkness he had brought upon himself and his eyes immediately flew open again. Swiveling his head to his left, he saw Riza Hawkeye lying on a table next to him; battered, bloody, bruised… and bound just as he was. Her brown eyes flickered back and forth as she examined him, looking for any signs of immediate hurt or distress on his face.

"Lieutenant-"

Suddenly, everything that had happened returned to him all at once.

He had instructed her to get his uniform so that he could leave the hospital. They left and had been driving home when something slammed into Riza's car, sending them hurtling into an embankment. The details after that, however, were fuzzy; filled with fragmented memories of Riza's voice and sharp, shooting pains as he was jostled and jerked around.

"Are you alright, Lieutenant," he uttered, his voice gravelly and rough.

"I'm fine," she murmured back as she slowly nodded her head. "Are you-"

"I'm alright," he replied with a weak smile in assurance. Aside from the concussion he assumed he had sustained from the crash, and the fresh, yet healing, burn to his side, he was… Alright.

When she tried to speak again, she was cut off as a voice pierced the darkness that otherwise surrounded them. Turning his head toward it, Roy narrowed his eyes and scowled as a man in a white jacket emerged from behind them.

Grinning a devilish gold-laced smile, he peered at Roy over the rims of his glasses as he said, "I have to say that I'm surprised to see you here, Mustang. I had expected your purpose to be a different one. But," he added as his gleeful grin stretched from ear to ear, "I can't say I'm disappointed."

"Where are we," Roy snarled as he checked his bindings again, finding that they felt even tighter than before

"Those details are unimportant at this point, Colonel," the man quipped as he waved him off. "Since it really won't make much of a difference knowing." Then he turned his attention toward Riza and stepped over to her, leaning over her as she flinched away. Unfazed by this action he moved closer and grabbed her chin, turning her face toward him.

"Get your hands off her," Roy roared, fighting against the bindings.

Suddenly a dark shadow loomed over him as a commanding, yet soft voice mumbled, "I wouldn't look it I were you, Colonel."

Taking his eyes off Riza for the moment, they snapped up to see a blond, bearded man standing over him. Noticing he had Roy's attention for the moment, the man explained, "The process is excruciatingly painful, and there are few that are able to accept it."

"What process," Roy snarled as his eyes darted between the man and Riza, trying to keep tabs on both of them. She, however, had focused her attention on the coated man who was now in the corner of the room, hunched over something and working feverishly on it.

"You will understand very shortly, Colonel," the man soothed. "But for now, keep your focus on me."

His eyes snapping back up to the man, Roy growled, "So who the hell are you?"

"All in due time," the man assured cryptically. "Everything will become clear soon enough."

"Well I want answers," Roy snapped back as he jerked against the restraints in defiance.

The blond-haired man let out a long and tired sigh. After a few moments of contemplating Roy's request, he relented and said, "If that will give you the final bit of peace you so crave, then I will tell you.

"You see, Colonel Mustang, you and your Lieutenant have become quite the threat to our plan; after all, you managed to kill two of my children in a single night. And given your past and ambitions, simply asking for you to accept our presence and cooperate will not do.

"So instead I've decided to offer you something. Something that will _make_ you cooperate. Should you accept it, you will have more power than you could ever imagine."

"We refuse," Roy bit back. "The Lieutenant and I would never accept anything like that."

"Oh, I wasn't giving you a choice," the bearded man clarified. "You will receive it regardless of what you say, but whether you two accept it or not will be the deciding factor."

Hearing a muffled cry, Roy's head instantly twisted around to see the doctor leaning over Riza, his elbow planted firmly against her sternum and his hand clapped over her mouth, pinning her down to the table. Her wide, panicked eyes found and locked on Roy's, screaming silently in both terror and confusion.

Feeling a burst of adrenaline surge through him, Roy let out a feral yell as he began to twist and turn against his restraints, lifting his core off of the table and slamming it down in a combined fit of desperation and rage.

The doctor, unfazed by Roy's cries, continued as if nothing were amiss, raising his other hand to display a syringe of viscous red liquid. Lowering it, he then steadied his it before he plunged the needle into her neck, eliciting a muffled wail from her as she continued to struggle beneath his firm hold. As he pushed down on the plunger, Roy saw her eyes widen and her pupils dilate as her body began to accept the unidentified concoction into its veins.

A beat later a blood-curdling scream erupted from her, partially muffled by the man's hand as he continued to restrain her. Roy could only watch and continue to cry out and struggle as her body began to convulse and writhe.

"Lieutenant...! LIEUTENANT!" Using every ounce of strength he had, Roy jerked against the shackles that bound his wrists and ankles, cutting deeply into his flesh. But none of that mattered. The blood. The pain. Nothing.

No matter what. He had to break free. He had to save her–

A pair of hands suddenly grabbed Roy's head and twisted it around so that he was staring into the golden eyes of the bearded man once again.

"I told you not to look," he muttered just loud enough to be heard over Riza's muffled cries. "The process is extremely painful. Not everyone survives."

Upon hearing this, Roy frantically tried to jerk his head away from the man's firm grip. Fighting, struggling, he finally managed shift it enough to watch from his peripheral vision as her spasms slowed then stopped, the echoed sounds of her thrashing against the table growing dimmer as they slowly bounced off of the walls of the otherwise empty room. Out of the corner of his eye, he could just barely make out Riza's stilled form. Then, he watched as a series of red sparks illuminated her bloodied fingertips, raw and worn to the bone from trying to claw into the stainless steel table.

"Mm, good good," the bespectacled man mumbled as he eyed the sparks that flitted around Riza's fingers. "I think we may have a success over here."

"L-lieutenant," Roy quietly called as the man adjusted his glasses. Riza did not stir, lying eerily still. "Lieutenant," he called again, louder that time.

When she still did not answer, a sense of panic washed over him. Fighting harder against the restraints, he focused in on her and tried to roll and writhe away from the impossibly tight grips on his wrists and ankles, calling her rank louder each time.

He had been so focused on her that he did not immediately register the second shadow that fell over him. The moment her name left his lips was the moment the second needle found his jugular.

Suddenly a burning sensation erupted throughout Roy's entire body, a feeling akin to that of being consumed by his own flames. Biting down on his tongue, he stifled back a scream as his body reacted to the agony, twisting and contorting as it multiplied exponentially with every passing second. All at once it felt as though his bones were being broken, his organs ruptured, and his heart pierced by thousands of blades.

No longer able to hold it back, he bit through his tongue before opening his mouth and letting loose his body's torment. Twisting, jerking, and pulling against the restraints with what remained of his strength, he snapped his head to the side and managed to catch a glimpse of blonde hair and dark eyes through the splotches of red that had begun to dot his vision. Trying to keep his focus on that one significance, he pushed against everything that held him back, his fingers slowly extending toward her.

But when he tried to call her name one last time, the only think to escape his lips was a spurt of blood as his lungs contracted. Trying to catch a breath, he pushed through the pain and willed himself to continue fighting until the very moment his life would cease… because _she_ needed him. That single notion, however, was the last thought that crossed his mind before the darkness gripped him and plunged him into its endless abyss.

* * *

"'Sir.'"

Lazily opening his eyes, 'Colonel Roy Mustang' looked up at the blonde-haired Lieutenant that stood before him, her arms crossed over a bundle of files and papers.

"Yes, Lieutenant," he asked, trying his best to hide his smirk.

Seeing his attempt, the corner of her lip twitched upward before she masked her expression once more. "It would seem that the Elric brothers are causing quite a stir downtown, as if they're purposefully seeking attention."

"Is that so," came his reply. "One can only wonder what they're up to."

"Indeed," she responded to his musing. "From what I've heard, Scar has been seen in the area as well."

He sighed. "Well if that's the case," he said as he pushed his chair back and got to his feet, "It's best find we find them before they get themselves killed."

"Yes, sir," she agreed as she set the papers down on his desk.

Glancing over at the solitary soldier that was sitting in the corner of the room tinkering with a radio, Mustang said, "The Lieutenant and I are going to investigate this matter further. Should Lieutenant Breda or Officer Falman report back before then, tell them to get started on organizing and filing the Rodgers papers."

"Yes, sir," the black-haired man replied with a crisp salute. "I'll let them know if they should return."

"Thank you," the Colonel responded as he grabbed his jacket off of his chair and threw it over his shoulders. As he was about to motion for the Lieutenant to follow, however, he caught the Sergeant still staring. When he turned to face him, the timid young man quickly looked back down at his radio and began to mess work on it again. Deciding that it wasn't worth his time, the Colonel motioned for his Lieutenant to follow.

As soon as they stepped into the hallway and closed the door, the blonde-haired soldier murmured, "He might suspect something."

The Colonel nodded. "We'll just have to try and modify our behavior to better fit theirs. We want to maintain these façades for as long as possible."

She hummed in response as they began to head toward the front doors of Central Command. "It shouldn't be too hard," she mused. "I just need to maintain a show of loyalty and complete and utter devotion to you, while you just need to act as arrogant and self-assured as him."

The Colonel let out a low whistle and smirked. "He definitely did not appreciate that comment."

Smiling back, the sniper replied, "Neither did she."

He chuckled slightly at the notion, at the shared bitterness of their hosts. Their other emotions and feelings were an incredible annoyance. But their bitterness, resent, _rage_ : he could work with those.

As they walked out the doors and made their way down the steps of Central Command, he said, "Despite occasional annoyances such as that, our partnership should prove beneficial. After all, it _is_ instinct." When they made it to the bottom of the staircase, he cocked his head toward her. "Keeping that in mind, will you still follow me," he asked as his dark-eyed glance was met by piercing violet eyes.

Her lips curled upward into a mischievous grin as she replied, "Of course. After all, I'd follow you into hell if you asked me to."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick note: A lot of detail with the fight between the Elrics and Scar, including the scene with Winry, have been left out, as it more or less would have gone the way it did in canon. 
> 
> Another note is that this fic will primarily follow the manga-canon, meaning that Ling and Lan Fan have encountered Gluttony and Envy before. 
> 
> Finally, it will be a while before Wrath and Lust's survival is explained, but trust me when I say that it will all come to light eventually. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

 

_The moment his pain stopped, Roy found himself submerged in a sea of black. But despite not seeing what had surrounded him, he knew that he was far from alone._

_What he would describe as thousands upon thousands of voices rang out around him, ranging from the softest of whispers to the loudest of screams erupting from every direction his eyes darted toward. Some jeered him. Others begged for their lives. And some only seemed capable of wailing about their disdain for their existence there._

_His mind began to race, trying to process what was happening. What those voices were... How he had gotten there. All he had remembered was waking up and seeing Riza--_

_Suddenly Roy's eyes flew open and his body tensed._

_"Oh! He's awake," one of the voices crooned. A moment later the man in the white jacket bent over him, his distinct golden tooth catching and casting the light it captured as his grin stretched from ear to ear._

_"Interesting," the second voice murmured as Roy's eyes darted over to the blond-haired man that stood over him. "The Ouroboros is not completely dominating that eye."_

_The gold-toothed doctor moved in closer as he adjusted his glasses. Staring down at Roy with his crossed eyes, he mumbled, "Yes, you're quite right. It's almost as if it's flickering; flickering back and forth in front of the iris."_

_"As long as the process was a success," the blond-haired man –_ Father _, a quiet voice whispered in his ear– said in reply, "It matters not the state of the Ouroboros."_

_His eyes blinked again, slowly._

_"It's gone…" the doctor mused as his wild eyes widened with excitement._

_"Inconspicuous," Father murmured as he gazed down at Roy. "Possibly even more successful than the first Wrath..."_

Wrath…?

_His focus still on Roy, Father addressed him, "Are you able to speak, child?"_

Child...? _He-_

_"Yes, Father," he answered without hesitation._

What? _He hadn't said that…. He hadn't said that!?_

_A faint smile graced the older man's lips as he looked down at Roy with newfound admiration. "A second success in one day… I'm very pleased."_

A second success…?

_His hand then rose up on its own and hovered above his face, slowly rotating so that his eyes could perceive it. After a few moments, his voice once again spilled from his mouth without any additional thought, as if his body were lagging behind his mind, "A second?"_

_Father nodded as his eyes rose to peer at an area to Roy's side. His head turning to follow his gaze, he watched as a familiar blonde came into view, now donning a white scrub top and pants, her hair cascading over her shoulders as she sat on the edge of the steel table next to him. Despite the fact that he was eyeing her, her focus was intently fixed on the man called 'Father.'_

_His mind automatically begged him to call out to her, to ask if she were okay, as his memories began to reorient themselves. He had seen her on the brink of death just minutes… hours, before. But once again his body would not let him, opting only to continue watching her in complete and total silence._

_As if noticing him for the first time, she turned slightly toward him, dark and calculating eyes narrowing as she eyed him as intently as he did her. Then, the corners of her lips curled upward, and his soul shuddered._

_That smile that was so… unlike her._

_That's when something red caught his eye. His body reacted to it, instinctively setting its sights on what it was to try and make sense of it. The bright red head of a snake and the corners of two triangles that overlaid just below her collar bone, partly covered by the shirt's vee-neck, immediately called for his attention… and his memories._

_An Ouroboros… Just like—_

_"Your memories have been cleared," the older man explained. "I doubt that you would remember her anyways, especially considering that she too has a new form."_

_"She," his voice uttered in question._

_Father nodded. "We were lucky to both salvage you, Wrath… and Lust."_

_At the mention of her name, Roy's mind flew into a confused frenzy. Lust...? No… No, he had_ burned _her,_ desecrated _her until she was nothing but a charred, unidentifiable corpse. That was impossible. He_ destroyed _her! That wasn't Lust… That wasn't—_

_"What is the matter, my child," Father asked, his voice tinted with a mix of curiosity and concern._

_"He's fighting," his voice muttered as his brows furrowed. "He claims that she is not who you say she is."_

_"Oh," a voice soothed, once again bringing his attention back to the woman in question. "I can assure you that I am who he says. And," she added with a small smirk, "It's nice good to be back among the living."_

_No... Please no. That couldn't-that couldn't be possible! He tried calling Riza's name again, tried taking control, but the ever-present force that had been holding him back pushed him further down, suffocating his cries as the screams that had awoken him grew louder._

_They took her. They took her and replaced her with that._

_And he… He realized as the force that had been controlling his body took hold of him, had been taken as well…_

* * *

Reaching up, Wrath rubbed his fist over his face and growled, "This damn body won't get used to this eye."

"As long as it rights itself before we reach the Elric brothers, that is all that will matter," Lust murmured as her eyes darted up to look at him in the rearview mirror for a moment before returning to the road.

"Right," he uttered as he pulled his hand away and blinked, noticing that the crisp sharpness the Ultimate Eye brought with it had vanished.

"It's gone," he heard her say from the front seat.

"Alright," he muttered as he sat back in his seat and frowned. He'd have to concentrate on not letting it slip again. The Colonel's body was still fighting to reject it, and him, and it was getting _very_ agitating…

"She's fighting as well," she added as she glanced up in the front mirror again. "It'll be hard containing them when we encounter the Elrics, so be prepared."

"I intend to be," he answered, leaning against the car door and resting his chin on top of his balled up fist. Despite his overbearing dominance at that moment, the Colonel still continued to fight tooth and nail against him. Wrath's eyes flicked up again to note that Lust's outward appearance had not changed, and that she showed no indication of her internal struggle against Riza Hawkeye. Bound and determined to do the same, Wrath gave the Colonel's soul one final shove, thrusting him further into the recesses of his mind.

* * *

"Ah-achoo!"

"Gesundheit," Alphonse chirped as he grabbed a napkin from the table they were seated at and held it out toward Edward.

Leaning back in his chair, Edward crossed arms and smirked. "The whole city must be talking about me!"

Seeing that his brother wasn't going to stop to accept the tissue, Alphonse sighed and set it back down on the table. "Well, it's no wonder if you're this flashy about it."

Throwing his head back, Edward let out a short laugh before saying, "I can raise my reputation and fish Scar out. It's killing two birds with one stone."

"I suppose," Alphonse answered. "Now all we have to do is wait for your name to reach Scar's ears."

Just as Edward was about to comment once again on his prowess, the sound of an approaching car wafted to their ears. Turning around, they watched as the car pulled up next to the sidewalk and stopped. They watched as the backseat's occupant rolled the window down, revealing that it was none other than Colonel Roy Mustang.

Scowling at the two boys, he muttered, "Do you two want to explain what you're doing?"

"Heh," Edward scoffed as he walked up to the window and leaned against it, giving Mustang a sideways glance. "I could ask you the same thing." Moving closer, he murmured, "I heard everything about Second Lieutenant Ross."

The Colonel furrowed his brows for a moment, his eyes darting up to peer at Hawkeye, who was watching them intently in the rearview mirror. A second later, he looked back at Edward and mumbled, "Right… Right, that's good."

Edward raised a brow at the response, but brushed it off for the moment. After what had just happened, he assumed there was someone else on Mustang's mind... "And I heard about Second Lieutenant Havoc, too."

"Is that so," Mustang asked slowly as he watched Edward's face with newfound curiosity.

"Yeah," Edward went on. "Because about that, I think Dr. Marcoh can-"

The Colonel raised his hand, demanding silence from the young boy. "We can exchange information elsewhere. Get in."

The two boys looked at each other for a moment before Edward shrugged and opened the back door, inviting Alphonse to slip inside. Walking around to the other side of the car, he opened the passenger side door and fell back into the seat. Turning toward Hawkeye, he shot her a faint smile and offered a quick greeting.

Smiling back, she returned it with her own 'hello' before turning back to face the road.

A moment later he heard Alphonse yelp a quick apology. Both occupants of the front seat turned around to see Alphonse consuming the entire space of the backseat, with Mustang pushed up against the window. "I'm sorry," he squeaked as he lifted his arm above his head in an effort to give the Colonel as much space as possible.

"It's fine," the Colonel grumbled as he attempted to shift and make more room for himself. "Let's just drive and find somewhere more spacious to discuss matters." Looking up at the front seat, his eyes once again locked on the Lieutenant's. With a sharp nod, she started the car and put it in drive.

The car shifted beneath them and Edward lurched forward, bobbing into the back passenger cabin of the vehicle. Before he corrected his posture, however, something in on the floor of the backseat caught his eye. "What the hell is this," he asked with a half-laugh as he snagged a long, metal object from off of the floor. He held it up to better see it. Then his brow wrinkled . "What are you doing with a sword?"

He was about to unsheathe it when Mustang ripped the object from Edward's hands. "It's a new military standard," he explained in slight annoyance.

"Oh, and here I thought you were trying to compensate for something," Edward snidely replied back as he tried to lean closer to see. "Do I get one-"

"Of course not," Mustang replied bluntly as he pulled it out of Edward's reach and leaned it against the door. "Only those holding the rank 'Colonel' or higher are granted one."

Edward snorted and rolled his eyes, "I was just asking, geez. It's not like I'd want one of those anyways, especially since I could just transmute one whenever I want. Though I'd make it look more badass than that toothpick."

Just as Mustang rolled his eyes, the car turned the corner into an alleyway and slowed. Taking off his seatbelt, Edward quickly opened the door of the car and climbed out as the rest of the vehicle's occupants followed suit. Turning around, he watched as Mustang briskly strode around the vehicle and stopped in front of him, while Hawkeye stood a few feet away, removing the gun from her hip and holding it between her hands. Alphonse was the last to join them after maneuvering himself skillfully out of the vehicle without damaging the roof.

"Alright," Mustang asked as he folded his arms over his chest, "What do you have?"

"Like I was saying before, I think that Dr. Marcoh can heal Lieutenant Havoc. He has a Philosopher's Stone and-"

"Except," Mustang interjected. "Our reports indicate that Dr. Marcoh was abducted by the enemy," he continued as he pulled a book from his coat pocket and began to leaf through it. When he encountered a page with a piece of paper sticking out, he opened it to reveal a hand drawn picture of a woman amongst the page's notes.

"What?" When Mustang nodded, he hissed, "Damn it," as he sneered down at the book. "So they took him… and the information he was carrying." When Mustang raised a brow, he uttered, "The doctor said that he had previously made a Philosopher's Stone in the military's laboratories; the ones that were used in Ishval." Running his fingers agitatedly through his hair, he added, "The Philosopher's Stone, the military's dark side, _the Homunculi_ … How are they all connected? Just what the hell happened in Ishval then?!"

Peering down at the picture in the book, Alphonse leaned forward and interjected, "Hey, that's Lust…"

"Yeah, yeah," Edward mumbled at the abrupt topic switch as he retracted his hand from his head and gave Mustang a critical glare. "You incinerated her, didn't you?"

"Of course I did," Mustang replied as he shoved his hands in his pockets. "She was reduced to nothing more than a charred husk by the time I was through."

Edward heard Al's armor shudder at the mention. His younger brother had given him a very detailed retelling of what went down below Laboratory 3. It was something that, Al had said, he'd hoped he would never see again…

"Let's just get back on topic," Mustang grumbled. "Because speaking of Ishval, I heard Scar's here. And considering the little show you've been putting on, I wouldn't be surprised if he showed up soon."

With a snort, Edward replied, "That's the whole point. I have to fight with him one more time. The Homunculi said that Al and I were valuable alive to them, so I'm confident one of them will show themselves once they hear about Scar showing up. And when one does, Al, Ling, and Lan Fan going to capture it and—" Cutting himself off, he jerked his head to glance at the direction the Lieutenant suddenly raised her gun to. Following her stare, he saw the very man they were speaking of standing meters away from them.

"At last you've decided to show yourself," Mustang growled as he took a step forward and pulled an ignition glove onto his hand.

Seeing this, Edward knocked his hand out of the way and snapped, "Wait! We need him alive to—"

"He's an impediment," Mustang snarled crudely as he pushed Edward away and snapped his fingers… Failing to produce a flame. The dark-haired man's eyes widened in confusion and he tried again, and then again, the sparks flickering from his gloves continually failing to ignite.

Seizing this opportunity, Scar slammed his right hand on the ground, causing it to shift and crack as a massive rift snaked toward them. The four of them barely managed to dodge the crack as it reached Hawkeye's car, flipping the vehicle onto its side as they dove in different directions.

Through the clearing dust, Edward then caught a glimpse of Scar as he rushed toward the Colonel, who had just regained his footing and had braced himself for the inevitable confrontation. As Edward rushed forward to intervene, he heard a loud "Sir!" Whipping his head around, he saw Hawkeye on her feet with her gun raised toward Scar, one eye closed to spare it from a small trickle of blood that had run down her brow from a small cut received in the initial attack.

"Wait," he cried again as her finger found the trigger and pulled. But like Mustang's snap, the gun's report too was absent. Not wanting to waste the opportunity, Edward managed to slam into Scar's side before he reached the otherwise defenseless Colonel, knocking the man off his balance. Standing between them as Scar regained his footing, Edward transmuted his automail arm into a blade as he sprinted toward the man.

He heard Al call out to the Colonel, possibly stopping him from snapping his fingers again… not that it even mattered. A few moments later, however, he heard the Colonel cry out in protest as Alphonse rejoined Edward, slapping his hands on the ground in unison as a multitude of columns rose from the ground and flew toward the Ishvalan man. When Scar dodged them and spun around a building's corner, Edward took the opportunity to ask, "What did you say to him?"

"I told him to keep the MPs off of our tails for a while," Alphonse offered as they rounded the corner, dodging Scar's next attack.

Catching his footing again as Scar grew defensive, Edward mumbled, "Let's hope he actually listens then."

* * *

"Do they honestly think they're going to catch one of us in such a ridiculous way?"

"Well," Wrath muttered, "Despite how asinine the whole plan is, he was correct in one thing: We do need to keep them safe at all costs."

"Right," Lust agreed as her eyes drifted over to him. "After all, we've already lost one sacrifice. To lose two more would devastate us." Reaching up and cleaning the blood from the already healed wound on her forehead with her glove, she added, "I'll go retrieve them while you go back to Headquarters and figure out why you were unable to produce any flames."

"You're going to need a car," he muttered as he glanced over at the overturned vehicle.

"Already got it," she murmured as she raised the gun and pointed it toward a car that had misguidedly turned down the narrow alleyway. "Military police! We require the use of this vehicle." The couple inside, frightened by the show of force, quickly threw their doors open and jumped out, backing away with their hands raised.

With the car now vacated, Lust ignored the couple and slid into the driver's seat, and slammed the door closed. "Once I have them in my possession, I'll bring them back to Central Command."

"Alright," Wrath agreed as he placed his hands on the window ledge and peered down at her. "Stay safe." The moment those words escaped his lips, he recoiled. 

She turned toward him and arched a brow. "What was that?"

"Reminding you to turn the safety of your gun off next time," Wrath stated coolly as he pushed off from the car and took a few steps back.

She narrowed her eyes for a moment, but then shook her head and dismissed it, saying, "That's what I thought you said," as she turned the car's engine over and started it. After casting him one final dubious glance, she pulled away and began heading off in the direction of the various 'booms' and bursts of energy.

When she turned the corner and disappeared, Wrath growled and pushed Mustang back once more, promising himself that he would not let his guard down again.

* * *

As the ground beneath him began to break, Edward quickly leapt to the side, just barely missing another blow from the rogue Ishvalan man. With the distance between them closed, he used this to swing at Scar, managed to catch his left jaw with his right hook. Taking the brief opening Scar's stun left open, he swung again… only to feel something slam into his side. Tumbling to the ground, he heard Al cry out in surprise, followed moments later by the sound of his armor thudding next to him.

He whirled around and saw a small girl standing between them and Scar, her arms raised in defense. "Are you okay, Mr. Scar," she called as the man reached up and rubbed his jaw.

Before he could answer, the squealing of a car's tires filled their ears. Turning toward it, they watched as a car rounded the corner at breakneck speed, its driver pointing something out the window. When they skidded to a halt, a gunshot rang out, the bullet grazing Scar's shoulder.

Glaring at it, Edward recognized the driver as Hawkeye. His stomach dropped. He had trusted them-

Seizing the opportunity, the little girl let loose a flurry of throwing knives, burying them into a nearby water tower and pile of coal. "We'll retreat for now," she cried as she dragged her toe through the dirt to create an array. A moment later the array was activated, causing the water tower to explode and the coals to ignite, creating a thick cloud of smoke to envelop them.

Coughing and gagging, Edward tried to glance at the last place he saw the man, but to no avail. Within a matter of moments, he and the little girl were gone, leaving only Hawkeye, Alphonse, the military police, and him behind.

"Damn it," he growled as the smoke began to clear, confirming that they had left without a trace. Whirling around, he shot Hawkeye a look of disbelief as she stepped out of the car and eyed them warningly. Understanding, and begrudgingly accepting the look, he trudged toward the vehicle and climbed in, slamming the door shut behind him as Al got in on the other side.

"What the hell is Mustang's – oof!" Edward was unable to finish his sentence as Hawkeye stepped on the gas, the wheels skidding as the car quickly accelerated and took them away from the scene, avoiding questioning by the military police that had surrounded the area entirely. After she took a sharp turn and began to stabilize the speed, he grumbled, "What the hell is Mustang's problem? We had him!"

Hawkeye glanced in the rearview mirror, her eyes catching his for a brief moment before she peeled them away to focus on the road. For a moment, however, he thought he saw something… different? Upset enough as he was, he did not dwell on it for too long, dismissing it as a light's trick. "The Colonel has his reasons, Edward. You need to understand that we have to protect you."

"It's not like we're kids anymore," Edward countered bitterly as he leaned against the door and glared at the houses that they whizzed past. "We need to keep moving forward. So in order to do so we need to figure out what their plan is."

"Getting yourselves killed is not moving forward, Edward," Hawkeye replied without glancing in the mirror at the two boys. "Nor is that any way to figure out what they're planning."

Edward growled and slumped in his seat, but chose not to argue back. Hawkeye was being just as stubborn and narrow-minded as Mustang had been earlier, and he knew that he would be wasting his breath arguing with her alone… Instead, he glanced over at his younger brother to see that he was holding something. He squinted at the creature and grumbled, "Al, what is that?"

"I don't know," the suit of armor said as he looked down at the small black-and-white creature and tilted his head. "I found it just as we were running to the car."

"Well, you're not keeping it," Edward objected when animal began to snarl. Glaring down at it, he saw that the object of its aggression was mainly Hawkeye; the creature's small black eyes narrowed as it bared its teeth angrily toward the driver before it glanced back at and growled at the two boys. However, its eyes quickly returned to the blonde sniper.

Edward didn't blame it; he felt the same way at that moment.

* * *

"What the hell, Mustang," Edward seethed as he balled his hands into fists at his side. "We had him! If we had gotten just a few minutes, we could have lured one of them out and-"

"That's enough, Fullmetal," the Colonel chided as he leaned back in his chair. "I've already told you my reasoning. Just accept that your plan was flawed from the start."

"How," the teen shot back as he took a step toward the Colonel. "I explained it to you. I told you what we were doing. You didn't give us any time to—"

"Did you _see_ the enemy, Fullmetal," the Colonel retorted hardly as he narrowed his eyes. "Because Hawkeye certainly didn't. All she saw was Scar and a small child that seemingly was accompanying him. There were no Homunculi on the scene."

"That's because you didn't give them a chance to find us," Edward cried. "If you had given us just a few more minutes, one of them would have been bound to show up."

"I highly doubt it," Mustang argued, his voice cracking with from his effort to keep it calm. "The fight went on for twenty minutes, _including_ the time Miss Rockbell was involved. That time was plenty for them to show up, and yet they did not."

"Because you didn't give them—"

"I said that was enough," Mustang rumbled as he slammed his hands down on his desk and rose to his feet. "Just admit that you were wrong and that your recklessness would have gotten you killed."

"No way," Edward shot back. "Everything was laid out; we had a plan. Ling and Lan Fan were waiting and were going to ambush them from behind when they appeared. It wasn't a fool's plan, Mustang. We're trying to figure out what the hell's going on, so why the hell are you suddenly impeding us? Where's the damn trust you promised me?!"

Mustang remained silent, his unwavering glare focused on the young blond teen, who stood firm by matching its intensity. The longer the Colonel stood there in silence, the more agitated Edward became. The one person he thought he could trust to back him up on this was turning his back on him when he needed him most. He trusted him… and Mustang let them down. His eyes caught a slight movement by Mustang's side and he turned his attention toward it to see that his superior officer's fists were trembling. Casting his glare back at the Colonel, Edward taunted, "Aren't you going to say anything else? Let out that all that pent up rage you seem to have?"

The Colonel's eyes darkened for a moment, as though he were about to argue back. But then he scoffed and took a step back, masking every ounce of anger he had pent up inside him. "Instigating me won't do you any good, Fullmetal. I told you that that was the end of the discussion, so I am done discussing it."

"Fine," Edward shot back, casting the Colonel once last glare. "I'm done discussing it too, then." Whirling around, he stormed around his brother and past Hawkeye without giving her another glance. He threw the office door open and stomped into the hallway, turning his sights toward the entrance to Central Command. He heard Al offer a quick apology to the Colonel and Lieutenant before he followed him out.

"Where are we going, Brother," Alphonse asked when he jogged up to meet him.

"To see Winry and then find Ling and Lan Fan," Edward growled, prickling with bitterness from the fruitless 'conversation' with the Colonel. "For right now, I'm counting the Colonel out of whatever plans we have, because he sure as hell isn't helping us out anymore."

"There has to be a reason," Alphonse offered sympathetically. "I mean, they _did_ just lose a member of their team. I think that really showed in their performance today. They're both suffering."

"Still," Edward argued as he shoved his hands in his pockets, "He's smart enough to know to put his damn emotions aside for a moment. He had the opportunity to do it, and now he's lost it. So I'm shutting him out."

* * *

"Ling Yao and Lan Fan," Lust mused as she glanced toward the door the two teens had vanished through moments earlier. "Those were the two Xingese immigrants that gave Envy and Gluttony trouble before, I believe."

"So Edward and Alphonse have befriended them," Wrath muttered as he sank down into his chair and dragged his fingers through his hair. "In that case, having them around will hinder us."

She hummed in reply before turning her focus to the window, noticing that darkness that had finally fallen. She chewed at the end of her thumb, tossing his words around for a few moments until they had sunk in. Then, the only solution she found plausible to their difficult situation sprang into her mind. "Well then," she said with a smile, "Perhaps we should pay them both a visit tonight…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try to be more diligent when it comes to updating this here. How about every two weeks or so until I catch up to what I have written so far?


	3. A Strange Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Elric brothers grow suspicious of Mustang and Hawkeye's unusual demeanors, and Lust makes a grave error when she confronts Ling and Lan Fan.

"Mr. Scar?"

Pulled from his thoughts by the young Xingese girl's voice, he turned toward her as she finished up closing his wound with her alkhestral technique. He watched her for a few moments, waiting for her to clarify the reason for interrupting him.

"Are you alright, Mr. Scar," she asked again.

"Yes," he muttered in return as his eyes wandered back to the healed skin of his shoulder. Reaching up, he glided his fingers over the new, smooth skin.

"There's something else on your mind," she pressed lightly as she leaned closer to him. He scowled at her and tugged the sleeve of his shirt down and over the former wound as he got to his feet. Just as he was about to turn away, he heard her squeak, "Please, Mr. Scar, maybe I can help—"

"This isn't something you can help with," he muttered as he cast his glance toward her.

"How so," she asked as she padded forward and folded her hands behind her back as she stood on her toes and peered curiously at him.

Realizing that she would not relent, Scar sighed through his nose and grumbled, "That woman did not have a single scratch on her."

"Who," May asked as she tilted her head, "You mean that soldier?"

"… Yes," he replied as he turned back toward the entrance to the building they had taken refuge in. "Before you arrived, I encountered the brothers at a different location… along with the Flame Alchemist and his subordinate. She sustained a minor cut to the forehead during the encounter and when she appeared again, it was gone."

"I didn't really notice anything," May replied as she shrugged..

"Exactly."

"So… what does that mean," she asked, trying to understand what he was getting at.

He found that he himself did not know what he was trying to understand, his thoughts still muddled by the plethora of thoughts and theories the unusual circumstance. He shook his head when his thoughts failed to organize themselves. "I don't know yet..."

* * *

All thoughts about the Colonel and Lieutenant were temporarily pushed aside when Edward saw Winry's face. Saw the dejection and sadness and hurt in her eyes when she asked him how long they had known about her parents. And when he told her and explained everything to her in that small interrogation room they temporarily housed her in, he could see her shoulders sag and feel the disappointment and distrust radiating off of her.

The car ride back to her hotel had proved to be more difficult still.

But when they had walked into her hotel and she received that call from Garfiel, he saw a change in her. Her mood instantly lifted the moment she discovered how many people were waiting for her back in Rush Valley. And when she decided that she was going back there, he watched her completely transform into the girl he knew and—Well, he didn't need to say that out loud…

Leaving her for now to pack her things with the promise of being back in an hour or so, the two brothers reluctantly left the building and began to head down the road.

The further away from the hotel they walked, the more Edward's thoughts turned from Winry toward the rest of the day, now that he knew she would be alright…

"You know something, Al," he said as last as they headed out into the darkness, "I've started thinking about what happened today, and something just doesn't add up."

"What is it, Brother," the suit of armor asked as he looked down at his older sibling.

"I just can't get the Colonel and Lieutenant's behaviors out of my head," he muttered as he shoved his hands in his pockets. "I mean, sure, Mustang can be incompetent as hell when he isn't thinking straight. And maybe he _is_ a bit off because of what happened to Havoc, but the Lieutenant…" He looked up at Al, lips drawing down into a frown, he uttered, "The Lieutenant  _never_  forgets to turn off her gun's safety."

"You don't think that with everything that's happened that she wouldn't be affected like the Colonel?"

"No," Edward replied shortly, definitively. "It's like second nature to her. She doesn't just forget, Al."

"So what do you think that means?"

Looking back down the darkened road before them, Edward shrugged his shoulders up and down and muttered, "I don't know-"

"He~y!"

Both brothers stopped when Ling and Lan Fan dropped down in front of them. "There you two are," Ling exclaimed as he cocked his head slightly. "We've been looking everywhere for you two."

"Sorry," Edward grumbled., "We ran into a few issues. Colonel Mustang got in the way and outright refused to help us out."

"Seriously," Ling asked as he folded his arms across his chest, brows knitting together. "I thought you said he was on our side."

"That's what I thought too," Edward admitted with a tinge of bitterness in his voice. "But it doesn't seem like it right now. So for the time being, I'm not telling him anything."

Ling nodded thoughtfully at Edward's revelation. "So what do you want to do then? We didn't sense anything while we were waiting earlier."

"I think," Edward began, "That they might move around at night. What if we split up and searched under the veil of darkness? Signal each other in some way when we confront one of them."

"We could do that," Ling agreed as he shoved his hand into his pocket, producing a small, paper-covered object seconds later. Holding it out for the brothers to see, he explained, "This is a flare. If you pull this string here," he demonstrated as he gingerly held the small rope between his two fingers, "And point it toward the sky, it'll shoot off and produce a quick, bright flash. It has the capacity to fly above the buildings in the city, and is bright enough to be seen for miles."

As Lan Fan began to remove her mask, she began, "My Prince—"

He turned toward her and smiled widely. "We can handle them."

She shook her head and tried to clarify, "But can they—"

With a huff, Edward strode forward and snatched the flare from Ling's grasp. "Of course we can take them," he grumbled, "The past few times we encountered them, we didn't exactly know what to expect. Now that we have a better idea of their capabilities, we're more prepared."

"Alright," Ling responded with a firm nod, "Then we'll split up and search. How about you two take the western part of the city and we'll take the south, so at least we're near each other in the event that one of us finds something."

"Sounds good to me," Edward agreed as he stuffed the flare into his jacket pocket. "If we see anything, we'll let you two know."

"Same," Ling replied as he raised his fist in the air, inviting Edward to bump his against it.

When Edward accepted the gesture, he added, "We'll see you two soon then."

"Right," Ling agreed with a grin, "See you soon."

* * *

"I don't understand," Wrath muttered as he dragged his fingers through his black hair. "I had what I needed to produce the spark, so why wasn't I able to create any flames?"

"It is because you yourself do not possess the knowledge," Father explained as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Colonel Mustang is the one that holds the key to flame alchemy. You are inhabiting his body but not his mind, my child."

"What do you suggest I do in order to possess such knowledge?"

For a moment, Father genuinely uncertain as he mulled over the dilemma in his mind. He wanted the element of flame alchemy on his side; the art was too beautiful and dangerous to ignore, but the manipulation, task, and difficulty of it was extreme. Roy Mustang was necessary in obtaining that knowledge. "You say that his soul still dwells within you," he asked at last.

Wrath nodded. "It is. If anything, his voice is a dull whisper amongst the souls that actually remain inside my Philosopher's Stone, but he still remains, adamant in his refusal to hand over his knowledge."

"Have you tried incorporating his soul into the Stone?"

"I have," Wrath replied, a hint of bitterness in his voice, "But still he continues to fight back."

Father pursed his lips together for a moment, his thoughts undoubtedly turning to the "problems" the two Homunculi were facing. While they were able to be kept at bay, it seemed that there would occasionally be a small slip-up, where one of the two would push to the surface for a brief moment, but every time they were easily reigned in and pushed back by the stronger force that dwelt within them. "The process of incorporating a single soul into a Stone could be very time-consuming," Father explained. "Bit by bit it can be drawn in until it is fully integrated. And," he warned, "Once that happens, the soul and all of its knowledge will be lost to the multitude of souls within the Stone."

"Then what can I do," Wrath asked as he furrowed his brows. "Losing the knowledge of Flame Alchemy could be a blow to our efforts. And maintaining the Colonel's image could prove too difficult if the renowned "Flame Alchemist" suddenly loses the ability to perform his namesake."

"Very valid points," Father muttered as he continued to eye Wrath, his thoughts likely turning to other possible alternatives. After a few beats, his eyes widened as an idea crossed his mind. "However, if you do begin to slowly incorporate his soul into the Stone, you will gain his knowledge, which can be used to your advantage. His Gate too would become yours."

"How would I go about doing that," Wrath asked incredulously, his doubt clear by his tone. "He is even resisting that. I am confident that I will be able to absorb his soul, but the initial grasp is proving to be difficult."

"You leave that to me to figure out," Father reassured. "As soon as I devise a way for you to take hold of him, I will instruct you on how to do so.

"And as for you," he said as he turned toward Lust, who was patiently standing at attention a few steps from Wrath, "I would like for you to do the same. We cannot afford another slip-up similar to the one that happened earlier. While the Lieutenant's mind is reflexed and attuned for pulling a gun in a firefight, you are not.

"So once I discover a method for successfully taking hold of their souls, despite their wills, I will inform you on how to proceed."

"I look forward to it," Lust mused as she crossed her arms. "It will be beneficial having the Lieutenant's memories to play off of, especially considering the notion that we were blindly thrown into this."

"Fancy seeing you here, Colonel. Or should I say,  _General_  Mustang?"

Upon hearing the new voice, Wrath turned to see a dark haired, older man in military garb approaching them. His most defining feature, however, was an eyepatch over his left eye. Raising a brow toward the man, Wrath muttered, "Always a pleasure,  _Fuhrer Bradley._ "

"Heh," the man scoffed bitterly as a series of red sparks illuminated him, "I wouldn't necessarily say it's a pleasure." As the alchemical energy enveloped him, they watched as the tall-statured man began to shrink and change, green hair sprouting from his scalp and replacing the black locks that adorned his head. As they began to recede, a smaller, violet-eyed figure stood in the place of the 'Fuhrer.'

Unfazed by the change, Wrath muttered, "And what did you mean by 'General,' Envy?"

Grabbing a newspaper it had tucked under its arm, Envy tossed it onto the ground at Wrath's feet. Glaring down at it, Wrath saw a picture of Roy Mustang and his entire team on the front with the words  _Incredible Feat; Rising Colonel named as Youngest Appointed General_ printed above it. As Wrath looked up from it, Envy grumbled, "That should be enough to give you the power you need to move freely without being pinned down with your former title. It'll be all over the press tomorrow, and the appointment will happen within the next week or so.

"And the sooner that happens, the sooner I can 'keel over' and get out of this damn position," it growled as it placed its hands on its hips. "If you hadn't gone and gotten yourself nearly fried to a crisp because of your insistence on talking to Lust, then I wouldn't have to be playing dress-up." With a deep shudder, it added, "And I wouldn't have to deal with that sniveling, pathetic wife of the former Wrath either."

"All of this is necessary, Envy," Father gently chided the grumbling Homunculus. "I require you to perform a few more tasks before ending your role as the former Wrath."

"Do you have any candidates for the position of Fuhrer," Wrath asked as he eyed Father.

With his eyes still fixed on Envy, Father nodded and said, "I have a few lined up for the position that I am currently considering. We must tread lightly as we work to make the transition as smooth and believable as possible."

"I know, I know," Envy replied with a huff as it crossed its arms. "I'll keep it up as long as needed, but not a second further."

"Rest assured that that will be the case," Father soothed as he nodded toward Envy. Turning his focus toward Wrath, he then said, "With your new position as General, I expect you to keep all others that are associated with us focused and loyal."

"Of course, Father," Wrath obliged as he dipped his head in agreement.

"Good," the bearded man muttered as he acknowledged Wrath's acceptance of the task. Just as he was about to say something else in addition, he raised his eyes and glared into the darkness. After a few moments of his eyes flickering back and forth, searching the blackness in front of him, he murmured, "It seems that we have a few visitors."

"Would you like for us to dispose of them," Wrath asked as he took a step forward.

"I would," Father answered, though he raised his hand to Wrath as a signal to stop. "Lust," he called, beckoning the blonde-haired woman forward, "I would like for you and Gluttony to seek out these intruders and eliminate them."

"Yes, Father," she replied as she turned on her heels. Looking back at the Homunculus that was eyeing her eagerly, a large grin plastered on his face, she cooed, "Come along, Gluttony. Dinner's ready."

"And you," he added as he turned back to Wrath, "I would like for you to stay behind for the time being, until we can figure out a way to harness the Colonel's Flame Alchemy."

"Understood," Wrath replied, though his eyes never wavered from the blonde as she parted ways from them, heading into the darkness as the Colonel's protests echoed deep within him. But before she disappeared from his line of sight completely, he saw her turn back toward him, pleading brown eyes silently begging him to help her.

He knew who she was looking for, and he would not let the Colonel slip up again. Raising one of his hands, he threw her a careless wave, signaling to her that she would not receive what she wanted, watching her expression crumble as Lust once again took control.

* * *

"Did you sense that, Lan Fan," her Prince called as he halted on top of the building they had just landed on.

"Yes," she replied as she turned back toward the division between the two buildings, recalling the strong presence she felt just moments ago.

"It kind of felt like that bigger one we encountered a few days ago," he mused as he stopped by her side.

Lan Fan nodded in agreement. "Although I didn't see anything when we leapt from the building. Is it possible that the being is beneath the street?"

Ling's brows raised in realization. "That would make a lot of sense; how they're able to move without being seen more readily." Taking a few steps past her, he planted a foot on the edge of the building and looked down. "I can still sense it too. It's close…" Without further warning, he leapt from the building and landed in the alleyway below.

Seeing this, Lan Fan immediately followed, landing just a few feet from him. As he made his way over to a manhole cover that was partially covered by debris and garbage, she quickly stepped past him and knelt down next to it, blocking him from moving further. Understanding her silent request to remain back, he did.

Taking hold of the metal cover, Lan Fan heaved and pulled it away, revealing a ladder that descended into the darkness below. Moments after removing it, a strong, familiar aura seeped from the hole. Furrowing her brows as she squinted into the darkness, she muttered, "It's down there…"

"Let's check it out then."

Before she could even object in order to remind her of their promise to the Elric brothers, the Prince had already plunged himself into the darkness. After hearing him make landfall onto the concrete below, she followed, landing inches from him.

"My Prince—"

"Shhh," he commanded softly as he turned to glare down the dimly-lit tunnel. When she stopped and shut her mouth, he whispered, "Do you sense that?"

She nodded in agreement as her hand slowly wandered down to her belt, gripping one of the kunai she had stowed in a utility pocket. Raising it up to chin level, she stood ready as her eyes scanned around, looking for its source.

"There you are," she heard the Prince growl as he raised his hands and took on a fighting stance. "We've been looking for you." Casting her glance in the direction he was staring, she saw the robust monster they had encountered days before lumbering toward them, globs of saliva dangling from its lips.

The gluttonous being's lips pulled back, curling upward as he said, "Goody, goody. My food has come to  _me_."

"Get ready, Lan Fan," the Prince murmured as his eyes wandered over to her. "We can't underestimate this one—"

"Well, well," a voice purred, breaking through the tense air that wafted around them, "What do we have here?"

Turning toward the voice, Lan Fan resumed her fighting stance as a blonde-haired woman emerged from the darkness. Eyeing her warily, she looked the woman up and down, noting that aside from the Amestrian blue military pants she wore, the rest of her clothes appeared civilian: a black, short-sleeved turtleneck and black wrist-length gloves. Still, she could not let her guard down. "I have no quarrels with an ordinary—"

Before she could finish her sentence or make a move, a sudden burst of pain erupted throughout her chest and arm, causing her to cry out as the grip on her kunai loosened and sent the metal weapon into the stream of water that ran beside their feet. He heard the Prince scream her name, but she was too focused on the long black spears that protruded from her shoulder, running back to the woman's outstretched hand.

Her lips turned upward in a gleeful smile as she retracted the claws, the woman mused, "Who said anything about 'ordinary'?"

Reaching up to grasp her shoulder as she stumbled back, Lan Fan tried desperately to come up with a plan, something, to ensure that the prince—

Suddenly feeling herself being lifted, she found herself flung over his shoulder, being whisked away from the two monsters as the larger one shook off its shock and began to pursue them.

* * *

Taking a step in the direction that Gluttony and the two Xingese children ran off in, Lust was surprised to see that her body would not cooperate. With a low and frustrated growl, she tried to move her feet and found that they would not budge.

Raising her arm to eye level, the only appendage of hers that seemed to still be able to move, she was disgusted to discover that her gloved and bloodied hand was trembling uncontrollably.

"Damn you," she hissed through clenched teeth as she reached up with her other hand and grasped her wrist, trying to push her hand down. "You will not win this."

And still the Lieutenant continued to struggle against Lust, clawing and fruitlessly fighting her way toward the surface. At last, however, when she began to lose her will and had begun to quiet, the Homunculus was finally able to rein her in, pushing her back down into the abyss within her that was filled with endless cries.

Her will was a lot stronger than Lust had previously thought. She needed to remain guarded, lest it happen a third time in a single night…

* * *

"Alright, I'm going to draw them away-"

"No," Lan Fan yelped at last. "My Prince, please, I must-"

"Lan Fan," Ling muttered, his tone serious and commanding, "I am  _ordering_  you to stay here."

Hearing this 'order,' Lan Fan paused, giving Ling enough time to nestle her into a small drainpipe he came upon.

"Wait until I return, Lan Fan, and don't you think for one second to try anything reckless, okay?"

"But My Prince—"

"That's an order," he answered hardly, cutting her off once more. Pulling his bloodied hands out from beneath her, he smeared the excess blood onto his clothes for the monster to track. "As soon as I draw them away and lose them, I'll come back and get you out of here."

Before she could even argue and disagree, however, he was already back on his feet and running in the direction they had just came, his footsteps becoming increasingly quieter as he moved away from her. When she was sure that he had gone, she pushed herself upright and stared into the darkness of the small tunnel he had placed her in. If it were a drain, then that meant it led to the outside.

Pushing through the pain and agony, she eased herself forward and down into it. She had to get outside as quickly as possible, because if she couldn't help the Prince, she knew two people that  _could_.

After a few minutes of dancing on the edge of consciousness and unconsciousness, she was finally able to see a light. Reaching into her belt pocket, she grasped the object she needed.

"I'm sorry, my Prince," she wheezed as she pulled herself up to the edge of the drain and raised the bloodied object in her hand, "But I must protect you… at all costs." Grabbing the pull string between her teeth, she yanked it and aimed the flare toward the sky. A few moments later, it ignited and rocketed into the air, exploding just above the skyline.

* * *

"That flare," Edward gasped as he watched the sparkles and light fade from the black sky that hung over Central before taking off in its direction, "It's Ling and Lan Fan! They found something!"

After taking a few more steps forward, he heard Al fall in sync with his steps, his heavy and metallic footfalls echoing as they raced down the street and toward the source of the light. Whizzing around a corner, they saw the Xingese girl sprawled out on the ground, hanging out of a pipe that was jutting out from the ground.

"Lan Fan," Alphonse gasped as he dashed forward and fell to his knees in front of her.

"Please," she whispered as she winced, causing a rush of blood to pour from wounds she had recently sustained to pool onto the ground, "Leave me. You must find… my Prince…"

"No way are we leaving you," Alphonse cried as he gathered her in his arms, just as a new rush of blood trickled from her wound.

"Damn it," Edward growled through clenched teeth as he reached up and stuck his flesh hand beneath her arm, "Her artery might be nicked. If we don't hurry, she'll bleed out."

When Alphonse gasped at the revelation, Lan Fan wearily nodded her head and murmured, "Which is why you must… Must find-"

"No way in hell are we leaving you to die," Edward snarled. "Don't be an idiot."

Just as Lan Fan opened her mouth to protest, Edward continued, "Can you hold her comfortably while keeping pressure under her arm, Al?"

The suit of armor contemplated it for a moment, fumbling around for a moment in an attempt to readjust the Xingese bodyguard in his arms, eliciting a loud gasp from her. "I can't," he wailed, "Not without hurting her or putting too much pressure."

"I'll have to do with you then," Edward replied as he increased the amount of pressure he applied to her underarm.

"Go where, " Alphonse cried, "Where can we possibly go where they can treat her? She's here illegally and—"

"We're going exactly where you would think," Edward answered, "To the hospital."

* * *

After curling his automail hand into a fist, Edward began to pound frantically on the steel door they found around back after circumnavigating around the hospital. But after a solid minute of pounding, which left a deep dent in the door, he realized that who he had hoped to find was most likely not there. Just as he was about to pull away, he heard someone unlatch the door. As he took a step back, it swung open, revealing a very disgruntled Dr. Knox.

Without a word, he chewed on his toothpick and eyed Alphonse first, seeing the wounded girl in the suit of armor's arms. Then, when they wandered down to Edward, he muttered, "Come in."

Not wasting another moment, the two brothers allowed themselves to be ushered inside by the doctor. "Over there," he grumbled as he pointed to a vacant steel table over in the corner of the morgue. Eagerly obliging, Alphonse hurried over to it and carefully laid Lan Fan onto the cold steel, the sudden shock to her body causing her to gasp.

"Oh, she's still alive," Dr. Knox asked as he stopped beside Alphonse, looking down at the young girl with newfound curiosity.

"Of course she's alive," Edward contended agitatedly. "Why would we bring you—"

"Because I'm a mortician, Fullmetal," the doctor muttered as he rubbed his chin, his eyes never leaving the Xingese girl before him. "I haven't practiced on a living, breathing human in years. Why not take her to the guys upstairs."

"We can't," Edward replied exasperatedly, "She and Ling are here illegally. As soon as they fix her up they'll send her back. You helped with the Maria Ross cover up; can't you at least try?!"

"That's a human life you're asking me to toy with, Fullmetal," Knox warned. "If I make a mistake, it could cost her her life."

"What other choice is there, though," Edward argued as the doctor leaned over Lan Fan and began to look at her wounds. "Please, you have to try—"

"Alright, alright," Knox interrupted as he pressed his palm against the wound beneath her arm. "I'll fix her up, but you'll need to come back to my place with me after I stabilize her. The next doctor is due here to cover the next shift in about thirty minutes."

Hearing that, Edward bit his lower lip, his mind turning to back to Ling. Seeing his hesitance, Dr. Knox muttered, "I need you there, Edward. You have 'feeling' hands. Unfortunately, Alphonse doesn't. He won't be able to apply the right amount of pressure at the right moments."

"Brother," Alphonse quipped as he placed his gloved hand on Edward's shoulder, causing the older Elric to turn back toward him, "I could always go and—"

"No way, Al," he snapped back, "After what happened with Lust before it would be stupid to go alone."

"Then Brother, what do we-"

"I guess," Edward murmured as he turned back to Lan Fan, whose breathing quickened upon being handled by Dr. Knox, "We'll have to put our trust in Ling, and hope that he can hold on until we get to him." Looking up at Knox, his face and tone serious, he added, "I'll help you with Lan Fan, but the moment she's stable and able to be left strictly in your care, I'm going to go and find Ling."

The doctor eyed Edward for a few moments, searching the boy's expression. After letting out a low groan, he grumbled, "Fair enough. Now help me gather these supplies so that we can move her to my truck."

* * *

"Damn it," Ling hissed as he leapt down from the ladder he had scaled moments before. Glaring up into the darkness, he tried to see the manhole cover he attempted to remove, trying to see if he could identify any bolts or screws that would have prevented him from opening it. But before he could even begin to wonder if it was because it was purposefully blockaded or something different, the sound of the large monster brought him back to reality.

He had given up fighting it minutes ago, seeing that every blow he landed was almost instantaneously regenerated, leaving the beast rejuvenated and ready to keep fighting. He had tried a small hand bomb he kept on his person at all times, but that had caused an explosion that almost collapsed the tunnel onto himself. For now, he would have to continue running to avoid being buried alive… or eaten. And then there was the other they saw, the one that had given off the aura of a human, had yet to show herself again…

Taking off in the opposite direction of where he heard it coming from, he ran deeper and deeper into the tunnels, keeping his eyes peeled for any signs of a way out. But after running in that direction for a few hundred meters, he saw a dim light ahead of him. At the very least, he decided, he would be able to see more than what he could at that moment if he headed there…

Despite hearing the glutton's steps thundering behind him, he pushed himself to keep going until he broke through the darkness and bolted into a large room. Thrown off by the sudden change in scenery, he slowed for a moment, only to be tackled from behind by the giant monster that had been pursuing him. With a loud cry he crashed to the ground, the monster towering hungrily over him.

"So this is the one that managed to infiltrate my home?"

Hearing the voice, Ling turned his head, seeing an older, bearded man clothed in white slowly walking down from the throne on which he stood. Stopping just short of them, his golden eyes wandered down to Ling, who scowled up at him.

"Who are you," he demanded as he fought against the crushing weight of the monster on his back.

"That is nothing to concern yourself with," the man soothed. "After all, you are of no concern to me."

"You should be concerned," Ling growled as he continued to struggle, "Because I've got someone looking for me. And when they realize I'm gone, they'll come looking, and they'll find you."

"And I will deal with them as I plan on handling you," the man replied nonchalantly.

"I don't think—" Ling began as he turned his head, trying to angle himself in a way to slip out from the beast's steel grasp. What he saw next, however, caused him to interrupt himself. Furrowing his brows as the figure stepped forth from the shadows; he focused his attention on him and narrowed his eyes. "You," he growled, "You're that Colonel Edward is subordinate to."

Smirking back, the dark-haired man crossed his arms and said, "So you've heard of me."

"Yeah," Ling snarled, "I've heard of you alright. Heard how you completely turned on Edward and Alphonse when they needed you earlier… and now I know why."

"Ah yes, Edward and Alphonse," the man replied as he crouched down in front of Ling, giving him a better view of him, "The boys that don't seem to give up."

"So you've been working for them? How long has that been going on," Ling pressed as a feeling of disgust began to rise within him. It suddenly made sense. The reason why the Colonel refused to help Edward was because he was working for them!

"Oh, not too long, actually," the Colonel quipped as he cocked his head. "But after they offered him a certain something, the Colonel could hardly refuse."

"What are you talking about," he growled. "You aren't making any sense. What were you offered?"

"Let's just leave it at that. Something that could not be refused…"

A sudden realization hitting him, Ling gasped. "Is it what you've been seeking too? The Philosopher's Stone?"

Seeming surprised by this, the Colonel's brows rose for a moment before he cleared his visage and concealed his shock.

"So I'll take that as a 'yes,' then," Ling continued. "And if that's the case, I want in on the Stone too."

The Colonel scoffed as he looked up, the sound of footsteps approaching them distracted him. Turning his head too, he saw that the blonde woman they encountered earlier was approaching them.

"I see you managed to catch him," she murmured as violet eyes wandered down to glare at Ling.

"We did, though I'm surprised you didn't finish the job," the Colonel replied.

"He gave me the slip," she replied bluntly as she folded her arms across her chest. "At least Gluttony was able to keep up with him."

Seeing that the two of them were distracted for a moment, and praying that it meant the beast on his back was too, Ling tried again to twist out from beneath it. Feeling his shift, however, the bloated monster readjusted his grip and held him tighter still.

"Can I eat him, please," he heard it whine excitedly in its shrill tone. "I'm so hungry."

"Of course-," the woman began, though she was cut off by the older man.

"Hold on for just a moment," he muttered as he stepped over to Ling and Gluttony, looking down at the Xingese man. Raising his brows, he murmured, "Do you believe you can accept my Greed?"

"If you mean a Philosopher's Stone, you bet I will," Ling challenged as he raised his eyes to look up at the man.

Just as the man took a final step toward him, another voice interrupted him. "You can't be serious," the familiar green-haired monster growled, "You'd be willing to use another one to house one of us?"

"Yes," the man replied as he bent down next to Ling, "It requires less energy than having to create a whole new body for Greed. And," he added as he held out his palm, "So far it's proven to be very beneficial."

It sighed begrudgingly, but did not argue again. Turning his attention back to Ling, the man ran his fingernail across his cheek, stinging him as he cut through his skin. As he held his outstretched palm above Ling, the man once again said, "If you are able to accept my Greed, then you will have the power you are seeking." Then, without any hesitation or reluctance, he tipped his hand, causing a viscous, gelatinous red orb that had appeared on it to fall onto his cheek and the wound that was inflicted there moments before.

Seconds later he felt it dig itself beneath his skin, and the pain that followed exploded within him was equivalent to being caught in the middle of countless hand bombs going off at once. Slamming is eyelids shut, he let loose a horrifying scream as a force took hold of him and plunged him into darkness.

* * *

For three hours they had to endure it, the muted screams of agony that the Xingese bodyguard attempted to choke down and keep behind the cloth stuffed between her teeth. For three hours they endured the blood that seemed to endlessly flow from her wounds as Dr. Knox tried frantically to stitch them together. And for three hours they were left to silently wonder about the status of the Xingese prince they were forced to leave behind…

When Dr. Knox at last pulled the cloth out from her mouth, Lan Fan immediately turned to Edward, her glassy stare fixating herself on him. "It was… one of those demons," she wheezed as she feebly grasped at her shoulder.

"What did it look like," Edward pressed as he leaned over her. If she was willing and able to provide the information now, then he'd take it, especially if that meant it could lead them to which one of them did this… and lead them to Ling. When her eyes fluttered shut, he demanded it again, more loudly this time.

"Brother," Al started as he put a hand on Edward's shoulder. "Please, she needs to rest and—"

"She," Lan Fan managed to gasp weakly, "She had light hair… and… and claws…"

"Claws," he echoed back loudly as Lan Fan's breaths began to slow. "She?! Lan Fan, what else?!"

"Brother," Al demanded as he pulled Edward away from Lan Fan's side. "She can't answer anymore. Look at her!"

"He's right," Dr. Knox growled as he looked up over the rims of his glasses, "She's not fit to even bee speaking right now." When Alphonse began to lead him away, he heard the doctor add, "I'll be out in once I finish giving her morphine dose."

Allowing himself to be guided out by Al, Edward begrudgingly stomped into the living area and curled his flesh hand into a fist. Slamming it against the wall nearest the front door, he leaned against it and growled, "This doesn't make any sense?!"

"You mean what she said," Al asked as he came to a stop a few feet from Edward.

"Yes," he replied as he turned around to face his brother. "She? Claws? If it weren't for the light-hair, it would almost sound like Lust," Edward growled as he folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against the wall. "And besides; Mustang said he fried her… You saw it yourself." When Alphonse nodded, Edward cast his glare toward the floor. "So does that mean it's another one?"

"It might be," his brother replied as he too focused his soul-fire eyes onto the ground. "I mean, we've met a couple of them; it's definitely possible that there are more."

"Good, you're still here."

Looking back up, Edward watched as Dr. Knox walked back into the room, the doctor wiping his dirtied hands on a cloth towel he had in the room moments before. "I was afraid you had left after that little tantrum."

"So what's the verdict," Edward muttered.

"Whole arm's gotta come off," Knox offered bluntly. "The muscles and tendons are too warped and torn to do much else with it. And even if they were still intact, the blood supply to that arm has been cut off too long."

Feeling his face pale, Edward gaped at the man. "Are… are you serious?"

Knox shook his head side to side and removed the toothpick from between his teeth. "I wouldn't lie to you about this, kid." When Edward did not immediately respond, he added, "I already talked to her about the idea and she agreed with it. Said you know an automail mechanic that can fix her up. She's out of the red for now, but we'd definitely need to do it within the twenty-four hours."

Edward clenched his jaw and balled his hands into fists at his side as he fully appreciated the words the doctor was saying, so casually in fact. Lan Fan was going to lose her arm, and already she was requesting that Winry take a look at it and set her up with a prosthetic.

"Brother," Al began again in an attempt to console him, "We have to—"

"We need to go and find Ling," Edward growled agitatedly as he ran his fingers through his hair, his mind reeling. "Lan Fan is at least out of the red. We need to get out there before the sun fully rises so that we can slip back into the tunnels undetected. We have to tell him, bring him back here to see her."

Alphonse was about to respond when a loud  _bang_  against the door interrupted him. Furrowing his brows, Edward strode over to the door and opened it, squinting out into the darkness in an attempt to find the source of the noise. When he didn't see anything, he stepped inside and began to close the door when he glanced down and saw that a rolled up newspaper was lying on the front step. Bending over, he grabbed it and brought it back inside with him.

"Newspaper, right," Dr. Knox grumbled as he eyed the bundle of papers in Edward's hand.

"Yeah," Edward answered as he closed the distance between them and handed it over to the doctor.

"Excellent," the older man mumbled as he began to unroll it and separate the pages, "I could use this to help cover the floor in the bedroom. Catch any extra blood that decides to escape when it's time..."

When he began to wander back toward the room he housed Lan Fan in, Edward and Alphonse followed a few steps behind him. Kneeling down, the doctor began to spread it out on the floor beneath her bed when a familiar picture caught Edward's eye.

Falling to his knees, he snatched it off of the floor and held it close to his face, using what little light was available to visualize the image on the front. After a few moments of scanning it, he recognized the faces of the people on the front: Mustang's team. Furrowing his brows, his eyes wandered up to the top of the picture, skimming the title of the article it was attached to.  _'General'_  Mustang?! He had never mentioned—

"What's that," Alphonse asked as he bowed forward and eyed the newspaper curiously.

"I don't believe it," Edward murmured as he continued to stare down at the paper. "Mustang… He's being promoted to General?!"

"He is," Al squeaked as he clasped his hands together. "But isn't that a good thing?"

"I guess," Edward answered as he flipped the page open and got to his feet, scanning across the article as it continued onto the next page. "He just never mentioned—"

A loud gasp interrupted him, prompting him to stop and look up at its source. Surprised to see that Lan Fan's eyes were open again, Edward lowered the newspaper and took a step toward her. "How are you feeling," he soothed.

She, however, seemed to preoccupied to answer as her eyes darted down to the paper in his hands.

Furrowing his brows, he lifted it again and began to hold it when she quivered, "T-there…"

"You mean this," he asked as he sat down on the chair beside her bed and turned the paper around, facing the picture of Mustang's team toward her.

Gasping and panting, she bobbed her head as she raised a trembling finger on her non-severed hand, brushing it over the picture. Angling it toward him so that he could see better, he glanced at her once more to invite her to do it again. Mustering her strength once more to oblige, she lifted her hand again and pressed the tip of her index finger on one of the occupants of the photograph.

When her strength left her and her hand began to fall, she whispered, "That's… the monster."

Behind him, Edward heard Al gasp and say something about it not being true or whatnot, but his mind was already elsewhere, trying to process what Lan Fan had just revealed.

Because the person that she had just identified as one of the Homunculi was First Lieutenant Hawkeye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm slowly working through and editing these chapters so that they reflect my writing as it has developed! Expect more detail and longer chapters following this one, as about 180k words have been written for this fic already!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to try updating this more frequently now! It's been a long time since I've updated here, and I have a lot more written...

After he had finally come to grips with what Lan Fan had said, Edward looked back up at her to search her paled visage, hoping, praying, that there would be a shred of doubt in her eyes. Instead, what he saw was self-assurance and definitiveness. She was confident with her answer.

"Lan Fan," he began again, stumbling over his denial, "Are you sure? Are you absolutely positive?" Before she could answer he turned the sheet back around and squinted at the picture. The lighting wasn't perfect and… And it wasn't the clearest picture they could have used. It would be easy to misidentify someone based on that alone!

His heart dropped, however, when she answered with a weak nod. Her expression silently begged for him the turn the paper around once more. Obeying her silent order he turned it around, watching as her eyes scanned down to the picture once more. After another minute or so of analyzing it, she looked up at him again, her determination once again shining through the pain.

"I'm… positive," she managed to utter through quick, ragged breaths. Despite seeing his forlorn expression, she continued, "Had… had hair pinned up and… and military pants…"

"So you're sure," he asked once more, his escaping voice barely over a whisper.

"… Yes," she murmured as she closed her eyes and sighed heavily, the medication in her system slowly beginning to take effect.

"… Okay," Edward said at last, slowly getting back to his feet. Without looking back at Al or Knox, he trudged out of the room and down the hallway, heading toward the front door. Just as he grasped the handle, he felt a massive hand clamp down on his shoulder. Without looking back, he muttered, "We have go and get to the bottom of this, Al."

"Brother," the suit of armor uttered, "There has to be an explanation for this!"

"Right," he agreed as he turned the knob, "And that's why we have to go now and-"

"Hold on a second."

Snapping his head up and around, he watched as Dr. Knox walked into the room, drying his hands on a towel. Focusing his hardened eyes on the two boys, he muttered, "You two can't leave now. I have a patient here, remember?"

Letting go of the doorknob and taking a step toward him, Edward argued, "But you heard what she said back there! There's something going on and we have to go and figure it out."

"I heard what she said, Fullmetal, but I don't think you should be jumping to conclusions so quickly. Newspaper photographs are grainy at best and half the time you can't even tell who the hell's in the damn picture," the doctor answered bluntly. "It could easily be a misidentification."

"And what if it isn't," Edward fired back. "What if we've stumbled onto something big? We need to at least go and see the Colonel and Lieutenant because maybe they've at least heard about where Ling might be." When the doctor opened his mouth to counter back, Edward continued, "I have a friend that's still in Central that is more than qualified to help you out. I'll call her and have her come here to help for a few hours while we're gone. We just need to know…"

Dr. Knox closed his mouth and formed a thin line with his lips before opening it to speak again. "If you can get your friend here within the next hour I'll let you go, but no later than that. We need to get this done today."

"I know," he mumbled. "Where's your phone?"

"In the living room," Dr. Knox grumbled as he thrust his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the phone line. "Just keep me updated on what's going on. I'm going to check on the girl."

When the doctor turned away from them and made his way back toward the bedroom, Edward strode over to the phone and picked it up, pressing it against his ear as the dial tone bombarded his hearing. After tossing his words around in his mind, he finally came to a decision on what he was going to say as he punched the number of her hotel in. When the operator answered and redirected his call, he held his breath and waited.

Winry answered on the third ring with a tired,  _"Hello?"_

Swallowing the lump of tension that had formed in his throat, he muttered, "Hey…"

_"Edward? Where have you—"_

"I'm sorry," he muttered quickly into the receiver, "I don't have a lot of time to explain, but do you remember Lan Fan?"

_"I do, yes,"_ Winry answered, a hint of concern in her voice.

"Well," Edward began again, "When Al and I were out last night we found her, but not Ling. And she… she's hurt really badly. The doctor we brought her to said that her injuries are too severe to save her arm." He heard Winry quietly gasp on the other end of the line.

"Al and I have to go and investigate this, but in order to do that we would have to leave the doctor alone. So I thought that maybe—"

_"Don't say another word, Ed,"_ Winry answered,  _"Just give me the address and I can be there in twenty minutes. My train can wait for another day… and I'll bring that cat with me too."_

"… Thank you," he finally uttered gratefully before giving her the address and details.

* * *

The moment they walked into Mustang's office, Edward and Al knew that something was off. Looking around, Edward realized that two very crucial members of the team were missing; the two that he was there to see: Mustang and Hawkeye. Instead, all he saw was the three remaining team members sitting silently at their desks, all of them hunched over their paperwork.

It was so quiet and still that Edward and Alphonse jumped when the sound of jingling reached their ears. Whirling around, Edward saw Black Hayate eagerly round one of the desks, only to halt a moment later when he saw the two of them. His ears instantly dropped and he hung his head, as if disappointed that they were there.

Having Hayate around without Lieutenant Hawkeye was… unusual.

"Yeah, I found him wandering around outside. I think he's looking for Lieutenant Hawkeye," Master Sergeant Kain Fuery suddenly quipped, looking up from his paper work.

Edward's eyes wandered back over to the black-and-white Shiba Inu, who was now on the other side of the room, alternating between growling to himself and sniffing as he cautiously wandered around Hawkeye's desk. "He was just… wandering around? By himself?"

"Yeah," Second Lieutenant Breda muttered as he rose from his desk, turning his focus toward the boys. "Didn't see the Lieutenant around at all whatsoever."

Furrowing his brows, Edward replied, "That's the reason why I'm here." When he saw that he had the entire team's attention, he asked, "Have you noticed the Lieutenant acting strangely the past few days?"

"Yeah," Breda answered as he grabbed a newspaper that he had unfolded on his desk and tossed it back down, "Same with the Col—General too. Hell, he didn't even tell us he was up for a promotion."

"Same," Edward muttered in reply. "And the other day when we encountered Scar neither the Colonel nor Lieutenant performed up to the standard you'd expect them to." When Breda's expression urged him to go on, he elaborated, "Mustang couldn't produce a single spark despite trying over and over again. At first I thought maybe it was a tear in his ignition gloves, but then the Lieutenant forgot to turn off the safety on her gun when she pulled it.

"I thought that it might be because of what happened to Lieutenant Havoc, but I just don't know."

"They have only mentioned the Lieutenant once in the past few days," Falman quipped as he too got to his feet. "And despite our attempts to convince them to accompany us to visit him, they have refused every time."

"That's because it isn't them," Edward stated.

A chill swept through the room and it grew deafeningly silent, the only noise being the soft jingle of Hayate's collar as he continued to wander around and investigate the area around Hawkeye's desk. Lieutenant Breda was finally the one to speak up. "What are you talking about?"

"You said it yourself," Edward said as he took a moment to glance at each of the three men before his eyes finally fell back on Lieutenant Breda, "They've been acting strange… And that's because it isn't them."

Quirking a brow in disbelief, Breda crossed his arms and asked, "How is that even possible? We know the Colonel and Lieutenant. There's no way someone could impersonate them."

"Someone once told us that nothing was impossible," Edward countered as he leaned back against Mustang's desk and planted his hands atop it to straighten himself. "And it's possible that there is more than one shape shifter among them."

"Shape-shifter," Breda echoed back, his growing doubt evident in his tone.

Without batting an eye, Edward nodded and said, "One of them we've encountered before; so have Ling and Lan Fan. They fought it while the Colonel and others were chasing Barry the Chopper's body. It's called Envy. And if there's one, there's bound to be—"

Edward was interrupted when a low growl cut through the air. Turning back, he saw Hayate standing stiffly, his hackles raised and teeth bore toward the door. Whipping his head around to face the direction that the dog was looking, he saw the very two people they were discussing standing in the doorway: Mustang and Hawkeye.

He watched as Mustang's eyes quickly swept the room, falling on each of the men and staying there for a moment before ultimately falling upon him. And when their eyes actually met, Edward could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

After a long, drawn out silence, the 'General' finally cleared his throat and said, "Sorry we're late. My meeting ran longer than expected this morning." When no one immediately acknowledged his reasoning, he furrowed his brows and asked, "Is everything okay here?" Focusing his attention on Edward once more, he added, "Did you bring a case report for yesterday's incident, Fullmetal?"

"… I didn't," Edward replied cautiously, his eyes never wavering from the 'General.' "Figured there was no reason to seeing that you were there most of the time."

At that revelation the General sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose agitatedly. "Fullmetal, you do realize that every incident requires a report, correct? Especially considering that it was Scar that you dealt with."

"Well, right now I'm more concerned about another incident," Edward replied with a low and guarded tone. "One being the disappearance of Ling Yao."

Immediately Mustang paused and pulled his hand away from his face, raising a brow at Edward's statement. A beat later he recovered, crossed his arms, and said, "That friend of yours? If you're asking whether I've seen him or not, I'll stop you right there and say that I haven't."

"Interesting," Edward muttered as he allowed his gaze to wander over to Hawkeye, who was watching him intently, "Because someone told me they saw you last night, Lieutenant."

Seemingly surprised, she cast him a curious glance and replied, "I don't know who that could be, Edward. I was home last night." As she finished that sentence, Hayate took a few cautious steps toward her, but suddenly stopped as he pulled his lip back and snarled. When Edward looked back up at her, he saw that her focus was now on the dog, lip curled and eyes darkened.

"What is with the suspicion," Mustang asked, drawing Edward's attention away from the Lieutenant to look back at him, the man's obsidian eyes scanning the men in the room. "If it's because I failed to mention this promotion, I can assure you that I was just as surprised as you are."

"It isn't that, Boss," Breda replied as his hand instinctively went to the holster on his hip, "It's the fact that you and the Lieutenant have been dodging our questions these past few days. The fact that neither one of you seem to care enough to visit Havoc anymore; and the fact that you two have been hiding behind uniform protocols and whispers. So I want to know," he added as he pulled the gun from his waist, "Who the hell are the two of you, because you sure as hell aren't the Colonel and Lieutenant."

Turning his focus back toward the Mustang and Hawkeye, Edward saw the two of them exchange the briefest of glances before they looked back at the men. In a final attempt to laugh off the situation, Mustang took a step forward and raised his hands to signify peace. "You can't honestly be seri-" When he took another step forward, he stopped when Falman and Fuery raised their guns as well. Stopping his advance, Mustang kept his hands raised as a smirk crossed his face. His eyes flickered over to Edward, and his smile widened. "I'm impressed. I figured we'd get away with it for just a while longer."

"So you admit it," Edward growled as he clapped his hands together and slapped his left on his automail and forming a blade, "You're not the Colonel and Lieutenant."

"Oh," he mused as he lowered his hands and shoved them into his pockets, "We're them alright." Seemingly hearing something behind him, he casually cast his glance over his shoulder and glared toward Sergeant Fuery, who was still on his feet, the gun quivering in his trembling hands. When Mustang took a step toward him, the nervous young man took a step backwards and stumbled over his chair.

A second later Edward heard a loud 'crack' and saw Mustang falter as he staggered backwards, his hand going up to his shoulder as a series of red sparks poured from the wound. Realizing that Fuery had accidentally pulled the trigger, Edward made a move to rush forward but was stopped when a flurry of black invaded his vision. Stumbling backwards, he cut his cheek against something sharp and instinctively froze, just as he heard Alphonse cry out.

Turning his head ever so slightly, he saw that Hawkeye had one hand extended toward Alphonse; long, spindly spears penetrating his armor's arms and torso, just below where his blood seal was. If he moved even an inch, there was the potential that it would be destroyed…

And her other hand was extended toward him, the same black spears mere inches from slashing through his shoulders and neck.

"Wh-what are-" Before Breda, he himself too stunned to pull the trigger as he looked on with a horrified expression.

A split second later Mustang was halfway across the room and in front of Sergeant Fuery's desk. Startled by the man's lightning fast reflexes, Fuery stood no chance as he simultaneously dropped his weapon the moment Mustang grabbed the lapels of his jacket. Yanking the frightened young man over his desk, the General was quick to slam him down onto the ground, knocking the wind from Fuery's lungs.

As the young Sergeant choked and wheezed, Edward saw 'Hawkeye' look away and toward them. Now was his chance. If he could land a blow or something, maybe it would reveal itself. Slashing through the imposter's spears with his automail blade, he dashed toward her, ready to catch her while she was still distracted. But just as he had gotten just outside arm's length of her, she turned toward him, her brown eyes filled with despair.

"Edward…"

Feeling the blood in his veins run cold, he skidded to a stop in front of her and froze. There was no denying it. It was Hawkeye…

But how-

"Edward," she began again, her voice sounding more strained than before as spots of violet began to form in her eyes. "You have to.. listen to us-" As he took a step back, the gravity of the situation slowly beginning to sink in, she continued, "Father… is the one pulling the  **strings** -" Pulling the spears from Alphonse's armor and releasing her hold on him, she clapped her hands down on either side of her head and staggered backwards as whatever was inside of her began to viciously fight back.

Hearing a strangled cry, he whipped his head around to see Mustang following suit, his hands on his head as he towered over Fuery. Backpedaling, he slammed into Fuery's desk and released one hand to steady himself on it as he too began to fight. "There's not… much time," he managed to choke out as he doubled over and dug his nails into the desk's wood. "They're planning to-"

Before he could finish he stumbled forward again and raised his other hand to his face, peering out at him through his fingers.

That's when Edward noticed that there was something red in the place of where his iris would be. But before he could see it clearly enough, Mustang blinked and it was gone.

"Edward, _please_ ," Hawkeye begged against her internal struggle as flashes of violet spilled into the brown of her eyes. "You have to… s-stop us."

"Stop you… But-"

"Please," she snapped as one of her hands went down to the holster on her belt. "All of you- Have to… end us…" Grabbing the gun in her holster, she withdrew it and pointed it at Edward, her hand trembling. A beat later, however, her demeanor changed; her eyes growing darker as the violet he had seen before dominated her irises. Smirking, she steadied her hand before loosening her grip on the gun, allowing it to clatter to the ground.

Casting her glance toward Edward, she purred, "Who knew threatening your lives was such an effective way of reining her in. All I had to do was point with the intention of pulling the trigger, and she was like clay in my hands."

"Who are you," he growled as he raised his blade defensively, lest she let loose her spears again.

"I think the answer's clear," she said as she raised a gloved hand across her chest, her fingers once again lengthening to spears.

"That-that's impossible," Alphonse squeaked as she turned her attention toward him, "I was there with the Colonel and Lieutenant. I saw you get burned-"

"-Lust," Edward snarled as he completed Al's sentence, prompting her to focus back on him once more, her confirming, sinister smile forcing shivers to run down his spine. "Tell me how this is possible. Mustang killed you!"

"Surely you can't be so close-minded to completely dismiss the possibility," she taunted, "That we can manifest ourselves in other forms." Her eyes flickering over to Al, she added, "Because nothing is impossible."

Before anyone could counter back, a low moan forced them to turn toward Sergeant Fuery, who was attempting to push himself up off of the ground. Grabbing the back of his jacket, 'Mustang' pulled him to his feet, the younger man's head lolling back and forth carelessly as he tried to steady himself. "It looks like the Sergeant isn't doing too well." Shoving him forward, he amusedly watched as the young man stumbled back. Before he fell to the ground again, however, Breda abandoned his position and caught him.

"I suggest you take him to the infirmary," 'Mustang' drawled, his expression turning to one of boredom, "Because I'd hate for one of my subordinates to needlessly miss work for this little mishap."

"What makes you think we're coming back," Breda growled as he hung Fuery's arm over his shoulder to keep him upright.

"Oh," 'Mustang' responded, "You'll continue working under my command if you hold any value in the lives of your friends."

"What does that mean," Edward pressed, drawing the General's attention to him.

"Let's just say that your cooperation will make things easier for all of you," he replied cryptically. "Especially considering that Ling Yao is still unaccounted for." No doubt seeing Edward's face pale, the General chuckled darkly and added, "And I would hate for something terrible to befall that dear friend of yours. Her name is Winry, correct?"

"What are you planning," Edward snarled as he took a step forward, only to have Lust block his path with her spears.

"All will become clear in due time," the General replied as he shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned back against Fuery's desk. "So for now, just sit tight and await your next orders."

When he made a move to push forward, he heard Alphonse utter, "Brother…" prompting him to look toward his younger sibling. Soul-fire eyes locked themselves on him as Al shook his head and said, "No…"

Reluctantly retracting his automail blade, he turned his head away defeatedly and growled.

Seeing the boy's reluctant agreement to his unspoken terms, the General grinned and said, "Now, if you're finished here, you are excused," as Lust retracted her claws, giving Edward the same triumphant look that the General wore.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the men slowly retreating toward the door, Fuery balanced between them and Hayate tucked under Falman's arm, their eyes never wavering from the General and Lieutenant.

With a wave of dismissal, the General waved them off without a second glance. When they slipped out of the office, he turned his focus to the two Elric brothers, who were eyeing the two of them with contempt. "You are excused as well, Fullmetal."

Holding his ground, Edward growled, "Not unless you tell me what you did with Ling."

The General chuckled and shook his head. "We've given you far too much information to mull over already. Just revel in the fact that I haven't confirmed your friend's demise.  _That_  should be enough for you."

Clenching his fists at his sides and gritting his teeth, he muttered, "And what about the Colonel and Lieutenant? What about  _them_?"

"They're already given you a status report," the General replied coldly, his somewhat calm demeanor darkening along with his expression.

"That isn't what I meant," he countered.

"I'm well aware," the General answered as he too attempted to contain his resent, balling his trembling hands into fists. "And if you value them as well, you will  _stand down_."

Taking a few steps backward and causing Al to follow suit, he slowly looked between the two individuals that stood before them, eyeing them with malice.

Reaching the door, Edward clumsily reached out behind him and grabbed the doorknob and turned it, his eyes never leaving the two that stood before him. "This isn't the end," he muttered as they continued to stare him down.

Sensing Edward's retreat, the General relaxed. "I don't doubt it," he replied annoyedly.

Pushing the door open, he looked at them one last time, seeing his own sorrow reflected in their eyes. As long as they were still there… "Just… hold on," he uttered, addressing the Colonel and Lieutenant.

For a brief and fleeting moment, he could have sworn that he saw something in their eyes to indicate that they were there and listening. But just as quickly as he saw it, it was gone. Instead, he saw them eye Al and him just as critically as before, their looks akin to a predator studying its prey.

The moment he closed the door behind him, he immediately began to make his way down the hallway, his slow canter turning quickly into a fast walk.

"Brother!"

"Wait, Al," Edward said as his pace quickened. Looking up and seeing the front doors of Central Command before him, his brisk jog became a sprint. Flinging the doors open, he ran out into the morning rain and flew down the steps. When he reached the bottom, however, he slipped on a smooth patch of marble and crashed to his knees, driving his automail fist into the ground.

Hearing Alphonse run up behind him, he lowered his gaze so that his younger brother wouldn't see. He needed to keep it together for him. He had to…

"Brother," Al whispered quietly again, his voice faltering, "Please… what do we do?"

After taking a few moments to catch his breath, Edward slowly shook his head and finally gasped, "… I don't know, Al. I… I don't know…"

* * *

"What the hell do you want," Jean Havoc snarled as his two new visitors eyed him with feigned innocence.

"What," the 'Colonel' –or in this case, General- said as he raised his hands and shrugged his shoulders, his smirk widening, "You aren't happy to see us?"

"No," Jean replied bluntly, "I'm not."

The General frowned. "You're not even going to congratulate me on my newest position? Skipping rank to become a Major General is a great achievement."

"Yeah," Jean growled, "One that should be earned, not handed to you on a damn silver platter."

Cocking a brow, the General replied, "Well, Mustang was bound to reach that level sooner or later." When Jean scoffed the two of them wandered around the edge of his bed and took the two seats that were positioned beside it. "So then, Lieutenant Havoc, when were you informed?"

"I'm not a Lieutenant anymore," he replied dryly as his eyes slowly wandered between the two of them. "And my former team figured they'd warn me beforehand since your encounter yesterday was less than civil."

The General raised his hands defensively and countered, "You can't blame us entirely; after all, they were very unruly. Hardly something you would expect from the competent, qualified soldiers they were trained to be.

"And the blows still continue to come, seeing that they all conveniently decided to take a day off today."

"Can you blame them," he growled back as he tightened his grip on his bedsheets, "They just figured out what you damn monsters did to the Colonel and Lieutenant. I'd consider their actions and absence more than justified."

"You're condoning their actions, despite them being against their superior officer?"

"Hah," Jean laughed bitterly, "You aren't their superior officer." Looking toward 'Hawkeye,' he added, "Just like you aren't their colleague." When she scoffed in reply he continued, "So what are you to doing here anyways, because I assume you aren't looking to say 'hello.'"

"That's true… to an extent," the General replied. "We could care less about your well-being. But they… They are worried immensely about you and your safety."

Narrowing his eyes, Jean slowly asked, "Are you here to kill me then? Let the Boss and Lieutenant watch?"

The General raised his brows at the question, but replied, "As much as I wish it were true, keeping you and the men alive allow us to keep the Colonel and Lieutenant on very short leashes."

"So your visit is just a friendly reminder that our liveliness is a gift from you, right?"

At that the General smiled. "Very good, Havoc. You know, you're a lot smarter than you let on."

"Thanks," he muttered sarcastically. "Glad to know I've got you all figured out."

At that the General let loose a brief laugh, just as a nurse filed into the room. Looking past Jean, he tossed her a friendly wave as she picked up the chart hanging on the edge of his bed.

For a moment Jean considered saying something, anything, to get away from them. But a cold glance from the General stopped him in his tracks; a glance that suggested if she, or anyone else, were unnecessarily involved somehow, their involvement would be very brief, and their end very abrupt. So instead he shot her a small and reassuring smile as she asked him a series of questions regarding his physical pain and wellbeing. Once she was done and he was confident that he did not let anything on, the three of them watched after her as she stepped out of the room to finish the rest of her rounds.

Once they were sure she was gone, the General turned back to Jean and said, "Well, I'll let you two catch up," as his eyes wandered up at the clock on the wall. Rising to his feet, he continued, "I should really get back to HQ to finalize a few plans we have recently laid out." When Jean refused to acknowledge his departure, the imposter rolled his eyes and lightly scoffed before making eye contact with 'Hawkeye,' who responded by tossing him a smirk.

After Jean heard his footsteps die away, he turned his glare to the blonde woman that was seated next to his bed, who was now smiling slyly toward him. Then, before he could retort or bite something back in reply, she leaned forward and placed a hand on his arm, brushing her cheek past his to press her lips against his ear. "Do you remember me," she whispered. "Because I am quite unforgettable."

"What are you—" He cut himself off as he gasped, feeling her nails dig into his bicep. In that instant his thoughts immediately turned to one individual with a very particular technique… "They told me it was you," he breathed as she tightened her steel-like grip on his arm, "But the Colonel, he killed you…"

"He did, in a sense," she clarified. "And now I've been reborn in the one person he'll  _never_  escape. I find it very serendipitous because it keeps  _him_  in line."

Feeling a fine layer of sweat form on his brow, Jean uttered, "And just who else is keeping him in line besides you?"

"You would like to know, wouldn't you," she mused, "But what's the fun in revealing everything in one go? After all, I find the suspense to be captivating."

Jean could feel a tingling sensation suddenly begin to form and envelop the area just above his waist, above the area he had lost all feeling. As her nails slowly dug deeper and deeper into his skin, the tingling he felt began to strengthen, turning into a sharp, searing pain; akin to the pain he had felt that day. As the memories suddenly flooded into his mind, he began to claw at the bedsheets and attempt to push himself away from her.

Obviously enjoying this struggle, she dug her nails deeper into his bicep, digging into the muscle of his arm. "What's the matter, Jean," she asked innocently, "Are you remembering our time together now?"

"Go to hell," he hissed as he tried to jerk his arm out of her grip.

"Only if you'll join me," she purred, brushing her lips against his ear. "I only wish that I could remember it as well. I can only imagine how _special_ it must have been for you…"

Just as he was about to retort back with the first insult that came to his mind, she suddenly drew away and retracted her claws, straightening herself as Rebecca Catalina walked turned the corner.

Stopping in the doorway, she glanced between the room's occupants before her eyes ultimately settled on Hawkeye. Taking a step toward the imposter, she licked her dry lips before muttering, "Hey Ri… I didn't expect to see you here."

Judging by the glance Lust had tossed her, Jean was confident that she knew Rebecca was aware. Mustering up a fake smile, she coolly replied, "Hey Rebecca. It's nice to see you too. We'll have to catch up later, though, because I was just leaving." Turning back to Jean, she added, "It was nice seeing you, Lieutenant. I'll be sure to stop by soon."

And with that she turned away and strode around the bed. Stopping beside Rebecca, she placed her hand on the brunette's shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. "I'll see you later, okay?"

Rebecca nodded rigidly and forced a smile. "Definitely. I'll let you know when I'm free."

After acknowledging Rebecca's confirmation, Lust nodded and pulled her hand off of the brunette's shoulder, turning the corner and vanishing from their sight. The moment her footsteps died away, Rebecca rushed over to Jean's bed and sunk down in the chair the blonde woman had occupied moments before. "Alright, who the hell was that, Jean? Because that sure as hell was not Riza Hawkeye."

Swallowing thickly, he cast his glance toward the door to confirm that she was gone before looking back at Rebecca. "It's like I told you on the phone, Becks. She and the Colonel… They've been compromised."

* * *

"How is this even possible?"

Now that he had at last calmed down and explained, Jean exhaled slowly before continuing. "I told you, Rebecca. If something as legendary as a Homunculus exists, then this isn't too far of a stretch."

"So these  _things_  were put inside of them and now they have complete control of their bodies," Rebecca asked exasperatedly.

"Yes," Jean replied with a small nod, trying his best to keep his expression as impassive as possible. "Although not complete control," he added in an attempt to instill hope into her. "From what the men told me they pushed through, even if it was for only a few moments.

"They're fighting, Becks. They're fighting back." As she buried her face in her hands, he finished by saying, "And we need to be here to pull them out of the trenches."

He watched as she took a deep breath and exhaled, her shoulders lowering themselves as she slumped. After taking another breath and letting it go, she nodded her head and muttered, "Yeah… I know."

Was that…. Doubt in her voice?

But before he could even contemplate how he would go about asking her, she continued on. "I just…" She sighed again before she lifted her head to look at him, her eyes wetted and shining. "Why them, Jean? Why  _my_ best friend? What did they do to deserve this?!"

"Rebecca," he began as he reached for her hand, which she quickly pulled away.

"It isn't fair," she argued as her voice continued to rise to the point of near hysteria. "They didn't deserve this! They don't—"

"Becks," he yelped as he pushed himself upward and grabbed her wrists in an attempt to calm her, "Listen to me, please!" When she stopped for a split second, he continued, his voice softer and calmer, "I think it was because we were digging too deep, we were learning too much—"

"-Then why did you pursue it," she argued.

"Becks, you have to understand; this isn't something we could just  _ignore_. There's something going on that is bigger than just us, bigger than the military. There's something going on inside of military command that involves everything we've been finding."

"Then why didn't you just report it to your superiors and be done with it?!"

With an exacerbated sigh, Jean explained, "Because they might be involved as well. The Colonel and Lieutenant were doing what they had to in order to uncover it."

"But why  _them_ , Jean? Why you? Why is everyone I care about being taken away?!"

"Rebecca," he started again, but stopped as he watched her eyes wander down to look at her hands, still caught in his. As he started to loosen his grip, she tightened hers, giving his hands a tight squeeze. She knew the answers to her own questions, but was trying to  _understand_.

She was grieving…

"You're acting like they're gone for good," he finally managed to mutter, his voice strangely more gravelly and quieter than he thought it would be.

Taking a deep, shaking breath, she looked him in the eye and uttered, "How do you know they aren't?"

The corner of his lip twitching upward, he answered, "Because someone once told me that nothing was impossible…

"Becks, there has to be a way we can get them out of this. There just has to be."

"But how are we even going to accomplish that," she fought back, her voice beginning to rise again. "How do you even get those  _things_  out of them?!"

"I don't," he admitted, "But the Chief and Alphonse will help us figure out a way—"

"Jean," she began again, "You can't honestly be putting all of your faith in two young boys. They've done so much, but even they have limitations."

"That's where I'd have to disagree, Becks," he murmured as he shook his head side-to-side. "I admit that I've doubted them once or twice before… but I can also admit that those few times I was completely wrong.

"Those two will stop at nothing until they achieve what they set out to do. That's the reason the Colonel recruited the Chief; he had a sort of fire in his eyes. A passion. They won't stop until we have the Colonel and Lieutenant with us again."

For a moment he saw another flicker of doubt in her eyes, but after a few seconds of mulling it over she gave in to his words and allowed them to set in. "I have to go," she suddenly muttered as she reluctantly rose to her feet and wrapped her arms around her waist in a loose hug. "I came here immediately after I got off the train. My bags are waiting at my hotel and check-in ends soon."

"Rebecca," Jean began again as he instinctively made a move to stand. When he saw her flinch at his realization that he wouldn't be able to, he murmured, "I don't think you're completely satisfied with everything we've said here."

"No, I'm not," she admitted with a head shake. "It's just a lot to take in right now… But I really do need to go. If I don't get there in time they're going to cancel my reservation."

Drawing his lips in a thin line as he eyed her worriedly, he uttered, "Are you sure you can't stay? Maybe take someone with you?"

Once again she shook her head, "I made sure to book it close to the hospital. It's only a three minute walk from here. I'll be fine." Resting her hand on the bulge resting on her hip, she added, "I'm well aware of everything around me.

"Besides, who is there to take with me?"

"I could call one of the men? Maybe Breda or Falman could—"

"By the time they get here it'll be late, Jean." Leaning forward and brushing her fingers over the hand he had rested on his thigh, she said, "I'll come back as soon as I'm done; twenty minutes tops."

Realizing that her mind was made up, he exhaled defeatedly and uttered, "Twenty minutes you say?" When she nodded, he said, "Okay, but not a second longer unless you call me." Grabbing a pen and paper from the desk next to his, he scribbled down his phone number and handed the paper to her. "This is the number that goes directly to the phone on his table. If you'll end up being longer, I want you to call me and just let me know. I just want to make sure you're safe."

He saw her shoulders sag as she relaxed slightly. Taking the paper from his hand, she tucked it into her purse and murmured, "I promise. Twenty minutes tops."

* * *

Rebecca barely remembered the walk to her hotel, her mind swimming, clouded with all of the information she had just received. She honestly felt like she was dreaming right now; that this was all some nightmare that she'd wake up from where she would be able to pick up the phone beside her bed and call her best friend. Her best friend that never fails to answer by the third ring, her tone formal yet inviting.

It was always the perfect time to catch her; when the day and work was over and pushed to the back of their minds. Well, the back of Rebecca's mind, anyways. Riza would always somehow smuggle a few words in here or there about work, the Colonel, or something until Rebecca would silence her and demand that she talk about herself for once.

It be like old times when she 'woke up,' she decided as she rounded the corner of her hotel. Just like old-

She suddenly stopped in her tracks, a shiver running up her spine.

Leaning against the wall of the hotel just feet in front of her was Riza… Or rather, she told herself, the imposter.

Smirking at Rebecca's reaction, the woman pushed herself off of the wall and strolled toward her, violet eyes never leaving her. "Hey," she said as Rebecca took a step back, "I thought you'd never get here."

"What do you want," Rebecca growled as she tried to take another step back.

When her body would not cooperate, however, the Homunculus chuckled. In one fluid motion she slipped her arm beneath Rebecca's, snaked it around her arm, and grasped the brunette's bicep, digging her sharpened nails into her flesh. "Don't you remember," she murmured in a sickeningly sweet tone as she began to lead Rebecca away from her hotel, "I told you that I would be seeing you later."

"Oh, right," Rebecca replied slowly, "I remember now. Although I thought that meant much later… After I got checked in to my hotel."

Waving the comment off, 'Riza' shook her head and said, "You can do that once we're done catching up. We won't be too long."

Swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat, Rebecca managed to utter, "Yeah, you're right. Of course…"

No sooner had she finished that sentence, they turned the corner down into a deserted alleyway, away from any possibly prying eyes. Just as Rebecca opened her mouth to protest, 'Riza' shoved her away. Stumbling backwards, she desperately tried to regain her footing before she slammed into a brick wall. A beat later a gust of wind tore past her, forcing her eyes open as a sudden pain radiated through her neck.

Just feet ahead of her she saw 'Riza' grinning madly back, her gloved hand extended and protruding razor-like spears; two of which had grazed her neck, planting themselves on either side of her head.

Swallowing thickly, Rebecca tried to remain level-headed and cool, even as she felt a steady trickle of blood flow from the two wounds she had just sustained. From what she felt, however, the abrasions were not deep; simply flesh wounds. "Nice nails," she retorted, her tone higher than she intended for it to be, "Are you actually going let me paint them now that you've grown them out?"

It took her every ounce of her strength not to break down or react in any other way at that very moment. Looking into the face of her best friend and knowing that she wasn't there, it wasn't her, was beginning to become  _very_  real… and very unbearable.

The imposter scoffed and grumbled, "Are you always this gutsy?"

"That's what makes me charming," Rebecca replied dryly.

'Riza' narrowed her eyes and clicked her tongue agitatedly in response to Rebecca's 'charm.' But after a few moments, her expression lightened as a thought crossed her mind. Smirking, she then said, "I'll bet Jean Havoc would agree."

"Don't you dare bring him into this," Rebecca snapped as she braced her hands against the wall to steady herself, noticing that the spears had shifted slightly, one of them now brushing against the side of her jaw. When 'Riza' went to open her mouth, Rebecca interjected, "And before you go any further to 'reveal' your connection to him in any way, I'll let you save your breath. He told me who you are! He told me everything!"

At that her face darkened, her piercing glare boring in to Rebecca. "You know," she growled as she tilted her hand slightly, the spear resting against the brunette's jaw now grazing the soft skin of her neck, "If he genuinely cared about your well-being, he would have left your visit as simply that; a visit. And now that you know too much, your blood will be on his hands." She moved her hand again, the spear now digging into her skin, inches above her carotid artery.

"So you're going to eliminate me now that I know? How does Riza feel about that?" Fighting through the pain and the notion that another flick of the Homunculus's wrist would likely result in decapitation, she gazed into narrowed violet eyes and uttered, "I know you're in there, Ri, and I know you're fighting this. You're stronger than it, you're—"

She was cut off by Lust's gleeful laugh. "You think that appealing to a single soul's humanity is going to stop me from killing you?" When Rebecca narrowed her eyes and did not immediately respond, she added, "You've got to be kidding me? You seriously think that—"

"I seriously think that you underestimate her," Rebecca snarled back as one hand went to her waistband, her fingers ghosting over the gun she had concealed on her him.

Seeing this, the Homunculus shot her a tired look. "I've dealt with her long enough to know her limitations, my dear; right now I'm more focused on yours.

"The moment you empty that weapon of yours, your fate will be sealed. You know enough to realize that your recklessness will get you nowhere in the end."

"It'll give me enough time to get the hell away from you," Rebecca growled in reply.

The corners of her lips twitching upward, 'Riza' retracted her spears and held both hands in the air. "Go right ahead then."

Within moments Rebecca grabbed the gun and raised it up, clicking the safety off as she steadied her hands. Keeping her glare focused on her target, she growled, "Don't you tempt me," to which the Homunculus replied with a smirk. But the longer Rebecca kept her gun raised and focused, the more she found that her line of sight began to waver.

"What's the matter? Are you too weak to pull the trigger?"

"Shut up," Rebecca snapped as she glared at… at Riza's face.

Her stomach churned and suddenly she felt her knees weaken. She was pointing her gun at Riza Hawkeye, her longtime friend from the academy; her  _best friend_.

"I can see the struggle in your eyes," Lust purred as she took a step toward Rebecca.

"Stay back," Rebecca warned as she took a step backwards.

Not heeding to her plea, the Homunculus took another step toward her before stopping in her tracks. With a slow growl she stumbled back and raised a hand to her head. "Not now," she suddenly snarled. "You- Rebecca!"

Feeling the blood drain from her face, Rebecca lowered her gun and uttered, "Riza?"

"Go," her friend muttered as her hand went down to her holster, producing her gun. "She'll… kill you…!"

"There has to be a way, let me help-"

"Re…becca," Riza growled as she slowly lowered the gun, her hand trembling as she continued to fight against Lust's control. "You have to… run…"

"Wait—" Rebecca was cut off by the sound of a gunshot as Riza pressed the muzzle of the handgun against her knee and pulled the trigger, sending shards of bone and flesh in every direction as her kneecap shattered.

With a cry of pain Riza slumped to the ground as a burst of red sparks began to illuminate her wounded knee. Moved to help her, Rebecca took a step forward but was stopped when Riza raised her gun and pointed it at her. "Go!" When Rebecca still remained frozen, she fired a shot that buried itself into the wall behind her.

She could see that Riza was losing the fight, that she would be gone again in a matter of seconds. But still Rebecca hesitated as Riza's eyes wandered up and locked on hers, silently screaming for her to listen.

"Please…" she murmured. "Go…"

After seeing Riza's pained expression and hearing the agony in her voice, Rebecca knew that she was powerless against this internal struggle. All she could do now was listen to her friend. "I'll be back okay, Ri? Just hold on…" This time dodging another shot that Lust had fired toward her, she dashed around the corner and down the road.

She needed to get somewhere! Where that 'somewhere' was, however, she did not know. Still she kept running and running, praying that that mysterious place would present itself soon, or believing that this was still just a dream that she would wake up from at any moment, because she could really—

Suddenly two pairs of hands grasped her and yanked her into the alley she was sprinting past. Before she could let out a yelp of surprise, a hand covered her mouth as one of them leaned close and whispered, "Are you Rebecca Catalina?"

Upon hearing her name, she relaxed slightly as her eyes wandered between the two young women that had captured her. When they saw that she had taken them in, the one that had her hand over her mouth slowly removed it as Rebecca sputtered, "Who are—"

"There isn't enough time," the other one said as she grabbed Rebecca's wrist and began to lead her down the alleyway. "Just trust us."

Reluctantly following with her free hand on her holster, she allowed them to lead her down a few back alleys until they reached the steel backdoor of a one of the buildings. After they took one last look around to ensure that they weren't followed, they pushed the door open and began to descend the darkened staircase that immediately followed it.

Just as she began to open her mouth to ask again, she saw a light once they reached the bottom of the steps. When they pulled her into the room that housed the light's source, she was immediately greeted by the faces of the men she had befriended and grown to love as brothers over the years: Heymans Breda, Kain Fuery, who was looking a little worse for wear, Vato Falman, and even the Elric brothers.

But what really caught her attention was the two figures that stood at the end of the long table they were all seated at. The first, a larger woman with dark hair, adorned with a plethora of jewels and expensive clothing. And the other…

Raising her hand in salute, Rebecca watched as General Grumman raised one in acknowledgement before gravely uttering, "Thank you for joining us, Lieutenant Catalina."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to try this again and start updating more frequently! Stay tuned for the next chapter within the next week. Thank you for your patience, everyone <3

"General Grumman," Rebecca said as she slowly lowered her salute. "I… I didn't expect…"

"Didn't expect to see me here," he finished, peering at her over the rims of his glasses. With a disillusioned chuckle, he added, "I didn't expect to be called here myself but," he continued as he gestured to the room's other occupants, "Here we all are."

"Hey guys," she said slowly with a small wave toward the three remaining members of Colonel Mustang's team. When they shot her either a forced smile or an effortless wave, she cast her attention toward the two young boys that were seated closest to Grumman. While Alphonse Elric was watching her intently, Edward was keeping his focus down on the table, his arms folded over his chest. Despite having only had a few instances where she had interacted to him before, she recognized the displeased expression he was wearing. 

"It's been a while Alphonse, Ed," she added a bit more loudly than before, hoping that the oldest of the two would look up as well. While Al did glance at her and throw back a similar half-hearted wave, the eldest Elric simply muttered something in response, but he still did not glance at her.

Before she could try anything else to appeal to him, however, the General cleared his throat, prompting her to focus on him once again. Gesturing to the empty seat closest to her, he said, "Now that we're all here—"

"Wait," she interrupted as she looked around the room once more as the memories of what had just occurred took front and center in her mind. "Je— I mean, Lieutenant Havoc, he's still—"

"He'll be alright," the General answered calmly, a dash of confidence that seemed to have been absent up until that point sprinkled in his words. "He's safe tonight."

"How can you say that," she cried as the thought of Jean being left defenseless and alone began to take over. "He has no guard,  _no protection_! He's a sitting—"

"They won't kill him."

Hearing his voice clearly for the first time, Rebecca turned her gaze toward Edward, whose intent, golden eyes were now focused on her. Seeing that he had her attention, he said, "They won't kill him, just like they won't kill any of us… At least not yet." After saying that, however, his eyes wandered down to her neck.

Remembering how close she had come to getting her throat slit, Rebecca raised her hand and brushed her fingers over the wound. When she pulled her fingers away, she saw that they were coated in flakes of red blood. Looking back up at the young boy, she murmured, "I don't know, Edward. It sure seemed like… Like  _she_  was going to kill me."

Knowing exactly who she meant, he pried, "But she didn't, right, because she was stopped." Her expression must have given her away, because he followed up by saying, "The same happened to us. The reason why none of us died yesterday was because  _they_  wouldn't allow it."

Though Rebecca kept her focus on the young boy, out of the corner of her eye she could see everyone turning in attention toward him, expecting him to continue. Seeing their actions as well, the golden haired boy crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, his eyes slowly moving down to the table and fixating on its surface. "When she… Lust," upon saying the name, he grimaced, as if the word had left a bitter and resentful taste in his mouth, "Pulled a gun on me, she said that threatening our lives was a way of reining them in. She intended to pull the trigger, either ending my life or injuring me, and the Lieutenant…" After he uttered Riza's rank, he bowed his head and moved his arms so that he cupped his hands in his lap. His glare grew distant, as though he were beginning to lose himself in his thoughts once again. "She gave in and let Lust resume control…"

No doubt recalling every detail of the encounter, the remaining members of Mustang's team focused their stares down on the table as well; Breda crossing his arms over his chest as Fuery fidgeted, while Falman remaining stone-faced and unmoving. The only two that did not follow suit were General Grumman and the dark-haired woman that was seated next to him with an unlit cigarette resting between her lips, both of whom continued to keep their gazes focused on the elder Elric.

"And the Colonel…" Realizing that Edward hadn't finished talking, Rebecca looked back toward him to see that, while he was continuing, he had not averted his gaze from the table. "The one that had taken him had the power to kill Sergeant Fuery. He crossed the room in a matter of seconds and practically threw him across the room… but still, he didn't kill him." He lifted his eyes to watch Fuery, and his glance encouraged the young sergeant to continue.

Following his gaze, Rebecca too watched him as he took a deep breath, before exhaling softly. Glancing up from his hands, which were neatly folded in his lap, the Sergeant murmured, "The moment I accidentally pulled the trigger, I thought I had killed the Colonel. The bullet went right through his shoulder, and at that point I saw what I thought to be blood. It wasn't until he had pulled me over my desk that I even knew he was fine. But," he continued as he began to knit his fingers together and pull them apart over and over again, "The way I hit the floor… It only caused minimal damage; only a mild concussion and some bruising, something that we passed off as a combat exercise injury… He could have seriously hurt me… But he didn't."

The General nodded hastily, as though he had heard the story many times before. "I don't doubt that Mustang would prevent it from hurting you further, Sergeant. But," he continued as he focused his bespectacled glance on Edward, "We must be aware that the enemy's resolve might change at any given moment. And if that is the case, we must be prepared to—"

"No way," Edward yelled as he slammed his hands down on the table and leapt up from his chair, knocking it to the floor. "There's no way in  _hell_  I'd ever do that!"

Without batting an eye or flinching at the teen's sudden outburst, General Grumman coolly stated, "Major Elric, you know that we do not expect this of you. I have known of your resolve for quite some time now, and understand and respect your decision. However," he continued as his gaze grew cold, "You must understand that in times of war, a rogue soldier must be eliminated—"

"They're not rogue soldiers," Edward cried as he balled his hands into fists and slammed them against the table, "So stop saying that they are! That's your grand-daughter, not some nameless soldier that you have a bullseye plastered on. And you," he continued as he focused his glare on the older, dark-haired woman seated beside the General, "That's your nephew. You know, the one you said you raised since he was a kid."

At that, the woman's eyes flickered away, chewing on the unlit cigarette as if she were mulling over his words.

Nephew? Rebecca knew that General Grumman and Riza were related; a fact known only by a handful of people. Other than that, she knew next to nothing about Riza's past, and she knew even less about the man she had practically devoted her life to. Eyeing the seemingly out of place woman in the room, Rebecca internally agreed that she and the Colonel had some semblance to each other; not enough to be immediate, but certainly very closely related… Once again Rebecca was drawn from her thoughts as the young golden-haired boy began to speak.

"We've known about the situation for less than two days and you're already calling out hits on them. You're setting Mustang and Hawkeye up for failure before we even know if it's possible to get them back."

"Edward," the General said calmly, attempting a different approach with him, "You have to understand where we are coming from with this. It is painful and it is something that we don't want to do, but you must understand that it is entirely possible this cannot be reversed."

"I know that," Edward countered, "And that's why I'm bringing my contact here; to figure out if something like this is possible to reverse."

With a weary sigh, the General slumped slightly in his chair and pushed his glasses up, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb. After a few moments, he decided that he would no longer argue as he said, "I will give you some time, Major Elric, to research and observe them. But," he continued as he pulled his hand away from his face and scanned every person in the room, "If there are no leads in the allotted time, or if something happens where force is necessary, I want no hesitance from anyone if they have the chance to pull the trigger."

Deciding that he had won, Edward leaned back from his position over the table and muttered, "That won't be necessary because we'll have it all figured out by then." Pushing off from the table, he motioned for his younger brother to follow.

Standing up from the table, the suit of armor saluted the General, who returned the gesture.

Rebecca watched as he hurried after his brother, who had not stopped to properly bid a farewell to the rest of the room's occupants, trying desperately to apologize for his brother's brashness.

Before leaving the room, however, Edward put a hand on the doorframe and turned a small fraction, just enough to glance back over his shoulder. After locking eyes with General Grumman, he muttered, "Tomorrow at the same time, right?" When the General nodded, the boy slid his hand off of the wall and departed. Alphonse following suit after tossing them one more rushed farewell.

After she had watched after them, Rebecca looked back toward the end of the table the General was seated at and saw that he had slid down in his chair, his hand on his forehead and his elbow propped up on the table. Just moments before he had looked so commandeering, authoritative, sure… But now… Now he looked like he had aged at least ten years.

Letting go of the breath he had been holding since the boy left, the General shook his head dejectedly and murmured, "I wish I could have as much optimism as that young boy…" After pausing for a few moments to let the rest of the conversation sink in, he looked up and locked eyes with Rebecca. Shooting her an apologetic and forced smile, he said, "I'm terribly sorry if you are lost, Lieutenant Catalina. You see, we were nearly finished discussing our next move when the girls brought you down." Gesturing to her, he added, "I see that she found you before they did."

Reaching up again and grasping her neck, Rebecca nodded slowly and said, "Yeah. But it's only a flesh wound. And like Edward said, Riza stopped her. She—"

The General raised his hand, silencing her. Taking a moment to recollect himself, he said, "I don't doubt your claims, Lieutenant. I just… need a moment to process everything, is all."

At that the woman seated next to him rose and stepped around the edge of the table, placing her hands atop his shoulders. When he jumped slightly and looked up at her, she graveled, "I think you've processed enough, General. Let's discuss this more later."

"I appreciate your concern, Chris, but—"

"I'm sorry," she muttered as she shook her head and pulled his chair, and him, out from the table, "But right now I'm  _insisting_."

No doubt realizing that he would inevitably lose, the General dipped his head in acceptance and slowly rose from his seat. As he did this, the three other men at the table quickly jumped to theirs and saluted him, to which he responded with a small wave. Without casting them another glance, the woman led the General toward the stairs and helped him up it, their footsteps growing dimmer and dimmer as they climbed up.

When she no longer heard them, Rebecca turned toward the rest of Mustang's team, seeing that they were still watching after the General. "What else happened while I wasn't here," she quietly asked as the three men looked away from the spot they last saw the General.

"You pretty much got the gist of it," Heymans admitted with a small shrug. "The General and Edward argued most of the time."

"That doesn't surprise me," Rebecca mused as she hugged her arms around herself, feeling a chill settle into her bones.

"Yeah," he managed to say as he looked toward the stairs again, as if he were expecting the General to return and explain. When he didn't, however, Heymans muttered, "I honestly don't know who to side with on this one.

"I have faith in those two boys, you know? They're dedicated, driven. I have no doubt they'll get their bodies back. But even so," he continued with a half-hearted sigh, "Edward admitted that he had never heard of such a thing, and that even he was uncertain of whether or not it could be reversed."

Rebecca swallowed thickly upon hearing the revelation, but tried her best to keep her emotions in check, all the while her wounds becoming increasingly sore and irritated.

"And on the other hand, I find myself agreeing with what the General said. They  _wouldn't_  want to continue on like that." Clenching his fists at his side, he said, "I just can't imagine what it must be like. To witness everything going on around them, but having no control, watching through your own eyes as your body listens to another voice inside of your head."

Looking toward Kain and Vato, she saw that they too seemed to agree, although ashamedly, as they focused their eyes on anything else  _but_  her.

"If it were me," Heymans continued as he raised his hands to waist-height and balled them into fists again, "I'd want them to do me in and release me from it. The General was not wrong in what he said, but it's so damn difficult to stomach."

"I know," she answered quietly as she hugged her body tighter, the chill once again making its presence known.

"Hey."

Looking up, she saw Heymans eyeing her curiously. "You okay? You're trembling."

Trembling? Unwrapping her arms from around herself, she looked down at her hands and saw that they were indeed shaking. Looking back up at him, she attempted a small smile and said, "I'm fine, really."

Casting her a skeptical glance, Heymans grumbled, "I've known you long enough to know that something isn't right. So you'd might as well spill the beans."

Honestly, she felt fine. She was fine. She was…

However, the longer she told herself that, the more she began to realize that, no, she was not fine.

All in one day she had to see her ex, the only man she had ever, truly loved, confined to a bed… most likely for life. Then she saw her best friend shoot herself  _in the knee_  to prevent that monster from hurting her again.

No. She wasn't fine.

When she drew herself out of her thoughts again, she saw that Heymans, Kain, and Vato were in front of her, each of them wearing expressions of deep concern. Rather than admit it downright, she shook her head and said, "Jean… I have to speak to Jean. I told him that I would call when I got to my hotel and…" Feeling a hand on her shoulder, she looked up from her trembling hands again to see Heymans watching her.

"You won't get ahold of him."

"What?" Brushing his hand off of her shoulder, she took a step away from them, her eyes wide and wild. "What do you mean? Why—"

"Relax," he said as he took another step forward and raised his hands defensively. "We have someone wandering in the hospital as we speak. They're going to take him and sneak him out under the guise of a nurse. You won't reach him because he won't be there. And he won't be there because in order for the Elric brothers to succeed, we'll need all the help we can get."

* * *

Dragging his fingers though his hair, Wrath growled under his breath as Mustang once again pushed. He had been relentless and unforgiving since the other day, never stopping for a moment to rest as he tried fruitlessly to break free, constantly fretting about the safety of his subordinates, who had all unanimously decided to call in sick that day…

Casting a glance toward Lust, he saw an irritated look cross her features, though she seemed to, for the most part, have the Lieutenant under control. When her eyes flickered up to meet his, she crossed her arms over her chest and muttered, "Is he still whining about that Sergeant?"

With a scoff, Wrath answered, "He is. And you?"

Rolling her eyes in annoyance, she aid, "Of course. She hasn't once shut up about him or Catalina. Frankly, I'm beginning to grow weary of it."

Looking up at the bearded man that sat on his throne above them, Wrath said, "Unfortunately, the only anger I am feeling is anger toward him. I have yet to even stir anything remotely close to that pure, unadulterated rage he's housing. It's more difficult than I imagined it would be."

Rubbing thoughtfully at his chin, Father leaned against the throne's armrest and peered down at Wrath, remaining silent as his eyes flickered about, observing him. After a few more thoughtful moments, he rumbled, "I would imagine so, my child. After all, wrath is one of the most difficult sins to express without some sort of trigger." Glancing over toward Lust, he asked, "And have you found it as difficult?"

All at once the annoyance drained from her expression, replaced now by confidence and self-assuredness. "The Lieutenant longs for many things; it's now just a matter of catching her at her weakest."

Nodding, Father looked back at Wrath. "Have you tried discussing recent happenings with the Colonel? Surely he must be upset with the way his team was handled."

"He is," Wrath reassured Father, "Though he is keeping that rage locked up within him. He's better at controlling it than previously thought."

"It would seem that you will take hold of him in due time. I am feeling confident, however, that this method will work. By forming that deeper bond of understanding through the Colonel and Lieutenant's own sins, it will only be a matter of time before their souls are easier to take hold of."

"But his flame alchemy would prove useful now," Wrath grumbled as he reached into his pocket and brushed his fingers over the unused ignition gloves that were there.

"I know," Father reassured, though it was evident by his voice that he was disappointed. "But you must remember that the Colonel's will is strong, though even he will fall victim to the cardinal sin of wrath. For now it will be a matter of time."

"Heh."

Rotating his head around and toward the noise, Wrath watched as Envy plodded out of the darkness, a smirk on its face and its hands on its hips. Focusing its violet eyes on Wrath, it raised brow and mused, "Still hard at work roping in the Colonel, Wrath?" When Wrath elected not to respond to its baiting, it huffed and then grinned. "Well, you should be happy to know that I got my end of the deal done." Casting its glance toward Father, it added, "Within the next few days 'the Fuhrer' will suddenly fall ill; I'm thinking a heart attack."

Impressed, Father leaned back in his chair and nodded approvingly, "Do whatever you believe is necessary, so long as it is believable."

"Of course," Envy agreed as they intertwined their fingers and raised them above their head, popping their knuckles and back as they stretched. "I might even lay bedridden for a few days, whispering sweet nothings into the ear of that pathetic wretch Wrath formerly called his wife. Let her down long and hard." Sneering at Wrath as they lowered their arms, Envy added, "Should I die with my eyes closed for dramatic effect, or open for more emotional scarring?"

Before he could even begin to think of a response, Envy shrugged their shoulders and said, "I think I'll go with keeping my eyes open. That way I can watch that sniveling bitch choke on her own tears."

Relatively indifferent to the other Homunculus's scheming, Wrath was about to focus his attention back toward Father when Envy added, "You know, since I've finished my end of the deal, I'll help you out." When Wrath raised a brow quizzically, it continued, "I've got a few aces up my sleeve that say I can piss the Colonel off."

Intrigued, Father leaned forward in his chair and said, "If you believe it could help gain access to the Colonel's Gate, then by all means try."

Grinning enthusiastically, Envy focused their attention back on Wrath, waiting for permission to advance. Letting out a low sigh and deciding that it would not hurt, Wrath was about to accept Envy's challenge before it interrupted him.

"If that's a yes, then I suggest you pull those ignition gloves on because I guarantee you'll be blowing smoke soon."

Rolling his eyes but not fighting it, Wrath dug into his pocket and produced the two gloves. After slipping them on, he folded his arms and eyed Envy impatiently.

Ignoring their sibling's annoyance, Envy cleared their throat and took a step forward, looking Wrath in the eye. Their grin widening ear to ear, Envy proudly said, "Hey Colonel, remember that little skirmish you were involved in all those years ago?" It paused for a moment, as if expecting a response. After Wrath gave it a look that suggested it continue, it added, "Well, you're looking at the one that started it all."

Suddenly Wrath felt a jolt, his body involuntarily taking a step forward and toward Envy. Mustang was pushing, and pushing  _hard_. And yet… It still wasn't quite enough. Not enough, anyways, for him to take hold of Mustang's soul and begin drawing it in.

"That's right," Envy mused as it took a step closer, " _I_  was the one that shot that child."

At that point Mustang was well aware of their intentions, pushing away from Wrath as he struggled to bottle up every bit of rage and despair he felt.

With a huff, Envy drew back, clearly displeased by the lack of a response. After a moment, however, a sickeningly sinister smile spread across their face as they looked Wrath in the eye. As it began to envelop themselves in red alchemic sparks, they purred, "You know, Colonel, I don't think you've realized exactly who I am.

"You've been looking for me for quite a while now." Wrath looked on and watched as Envy's green hair shortened and lightened to a fair brown; its violet eyes deepening to a distinctive green. Turning the corners of their fuller lips into a smirk, they placed their hands on their hips as they completed their transformation into Gracia Hughes.

"You wanted to catch the killer of your precious friend, Maes Hughes? Well, here I am." Stretching its arms out, it paused and waited, eyeing Wrath eagerly.

Mustang wasn't convinced. Not in the very least…

Shaking his head, Wrath mumbled, "He doesn't believe you."

The Gracia look-a-like hid all signs of shock as they chuckled darkly. "Really, Mustang? You don't think I could have been the one to," Envy said, sticking out their index finger and thumb to resemble a gun and pointed it toward Wrath, "Pull the trigger?" When Wrath only shook his head to tell Envy that, no, the Colonel still did not believe it, it frowned.

"Hmm… I'm insulted," Envy growled as they put their hands on their hips and shifted their weight to one foot. After a moment, however, a thought crossed Envy's mind. Illuminating itself in a shower of red alchemic sparks once more, Wrath watched as Envy grew taller, the clothes on its body forming into an Amestrian military uniform. Their hair shortened still and darkened as its green eyes became a more deep hue. Grinning as they finished their changes, Envy gestured to themself, a now perfect vision of Maes Hughes. "Perhaps this will change your mind, then, Colonel."

Upon seeing the image of his friend, Mustang began to shift and move and push…

Taking a moment to prepare itself, Envy closed their eyes and took a deep breath. Opening them again, they sneered momentarily before clutching their chest and stumbling backwards. Sagging to the ground, Envy looked up at Wrath and whimpered, "'Gracia, I'm so sorry… Elicia… Remember… Daddy loves you…-"

…

Roy felt Wrath's wall give and crumble as he burst through and raised his gloved hand toward Envy. Without hesitation he aimed and snapped, sending a spray of sparks in the Homunculus's direction. When the had aligned the oxygen molecules and had surrounded it, the resulting explosion consumed it, engulfing Envy in a column of flame.

Its surprised and agonizing scream ultimately falling on deaf ears, Roy aimed again and again and again, every explosion following becoming more volatile and unstable. By the fourth or fifth blast, the heat and flames had become so intense that he could feel the flesh on his face burning and blistering, and subsequently healing itself; but he didn't care.

He was free now and the one he had sought for months was standing burning in front of him… and he would be damned if he didn't take the opportunity to end its pathetic and worthless—

"That's enough!"

Hearing her voice, he paused long enough to allow the skin on his face to heal completely. A beat later he heard the distinct click of a gun's safety being turned off. Without turning back to face her, he growled, "Who is it I am I speaking to?"

"I think you know, sir," Riza replied, her voice unwavering as she stood her ground.

"Stand down, Lieutenant, while I still have control," Roy snarled as he poised his fingers again, eyeing the Homunculus that was regenerating in front of him. Oddly, however, neither it nor the other Homunculi had made a move to oppose him. Instead, Envy slowly pushed itself onto its hands and knees, glaring back at him.

Hearing Riza readjust her hold on the weapon, he growled, "If you're going to make good on your promise, you should remember the body I now possess. Your weapon will be completely useless."

"That won't stop me from trying," she answered in a hoarse whisper. "If that means I could potentially stop—"

"Why would you impede me now," he bellowed as he snapped, once again bathing Envy with a column of flames. A beat later he heard a gunshot and felt the air around his head move as the bullet whizzed centimeters past his ear.

Focusing his glare over his shoulder, he saw Riza standing with it raised and pointed at his head, the barrel still smoking from the shot.

"You missed."

Hearing this, the hardened mask she wore fractured, revealing an expression that could only be described as one of despair. A moment later, however, she steadied her now shaking hand and kept her sights locked on his head once more.

Narrowing his eyes, he venomously taunted, "Have you forgotten your resolve, Lieutenant? Have you forgotten what you had promised me so many years ago?"

"I haven't," she replied hardly. "I'm merely giving you the opportunity to stand down."

"And for what," he growled, "Look at us. They've taken us and turned us into the monsters we despise. And yet you are siding with them by preventing me from killing one of them."

"Look around you," she snapped. "Have you seen anyone move to oppose us?"

Allowing his eyes to dart around and see 'Father,' Gluttony, and even Envy, he saw that none of them had even moved, their eyes focused and locked on the dueling pair.

"They want this," she elaborated as she tightened her grip on the gun, "They want you to fall victim to your rage."

After letting loose a brief and harsh laugh, Roy replied, You think that in me destroying it, I would be weak enough to—"

"I will not let you be consumed by Wrath," she yelled, stopping him mid-sentence.

"I… I won't let you," she continued, her voice once again growing soft, "I'll do everything in my power to assure that you don't fall victim to your sins, even if that means I will instead."

When his eyes softened and his lips parted at the comment, she explained, "Lust is a desire, a longing. Desire is the fundamental motivator of all human action. I have longed for  _nothing_  but to see  _you_  and hear your voice again, and now that I have at last and have risen above Lust's control, I have found myself encompassed by her grasp." Averting her gaze toward the floor, Riza murmured, "I have been fighting her every moment of every day since she invaded my body; fighting because that desire is always lingering beneath the surface.

"… But no more."

Turning himself so that he was facing her, he watched as the weapon in her hand began to quiver once more.

"In my desire to stop you, I let my guard down. And as a result, she has taken hold of me. I can feel Lust beginning drag me down and consume me." The corner of her lip twitching upward in an attempt to shoot him a reassuring smile, she looked him in the eyes and murmured, "I'm sorry, sir. It looks like I won't follow you, after all. Instead, it seems that I will likely be hellbound long before you."

The gravity of her words hit him with an insurmountable force. All this time he had been fighting Wrath, trying his hardest to keep his rage buried deep within himself in order to withstand the Homunculus's attempts at controlling him. It was difficult when he was forced to be brutally blunt and cold toward the Elric brothers. Hard that he had to endure listening to his voice deliver less than warm greetings and words to Havoc. And it was next to impossible to control the utter despair and rage he felt when his very hand was used to subdue and harm one of his dearest subordinates.

But in that time he had not considered the immense amount of strength it took to no longer desire, to avoid a shred of longing. And yet here she was, Riza Hawkeye, fighting tooth and nail the entire time to avoid that desire… that  _Lust_. Now, though… Now she was losing that battle, breaking through just enough to warn him. Giving up her soul in the hopes that she could give him another chance at fighting…

He should have seen this coming, should have known. Why else would the others stand back and watch as one of their own was being burned alive? Why would Wrath take a back seat in all of this? Even at that moment, the Homunculus was quiet; always present, but very, very quiet…

They wanted this to happen. And he was too blinded by his own wrath to take notice.

But no more… They would  _not_  win.

As he took a step toward Riza, he could see that the color in her eyes had already shifted, see the sweat forming on her brow as she began to fight and struggle once more. Reaching out, he ran his hand along the barrel of the handgun and over her hand until he reached her wrist. Then, with a sudden and fierce yank, he gripped her wrist, causing her to drop the weapon. Pulling her forward, he wrapped his free arm around her and pulled her into himself.

Freeing the hand he had used to disarm her, Roy lifted it above his hand and poised his fingers to snap.

They would not win…

Suddenly he felt Wrath surge within him and take hold of him, slowly dragging him back into the darkest depths of his soul. Fighting and clawing against Wrath's grasp, Roy desperately tried to keep control, but almost instantly realized that he would have mere moments before he was pulled down.

His hand began to tremble violently as Wrath slowly began to dominate his body.

_"You'd be willing to burn the woman you care about once again,"_ a voice whispered as it cut through the darkness.

_"You know well enough that this blow will do nothing except draw a meager amount attention to your hopeless cause. It will only bring suffering unto yourself… And her…"_

Looking down at the woman that was pressed against his chest, Roy's resolve weakened as the muffled screams she emitted the night he had burned her crept back into his mind… as the smell of charred and burning flesh filled his nose.

Sensing his hesitation, she looked up at him. He could see the battle raging within her as her eyes wavered between a lavender hue and her chocolate brown. But like he, she too was losing…

Fighting through Wrath's control, he poised his fingers again, but then slipped as the muscles in his hand relaxed and loosened.

…

Just as Wrath took control once more, the woman in his arms raised her hands and lightly pressed against his chest, pushing herself off from him. Taking a few steps back, she smiled slyly as she hummed, "Better luck next time, Colonel."

But as she began to turn away, however, his hand shot out from his side and snatched her wrists mid-swing. When she turned to look over her shoulder at him, Mustang growled, "Don't give up, Lieutenant. Keep… fighting. I'll be here… I promise-!"

Seeing that Mustang had managed to break through for a moment, Lust sneered and jerked her hand away from his grasp. "Oh, don't worry, Colonel. I want to play with her a little longer before I consume her," she purred as she waved him away dismissively, turning away from him to meet Gluttony, who was standing in front of her.

Pulling his finger out from his mouth, the gluttonous being whimpered, "That mean woman stole my Lust again."

"That's right," she said as she stuck out her lower lip in a pout and patted his head affectionately. "But don't worry, that woman will be much easier to control now…—"

Tuning her out as he once again gained full control, Wrath turned away and raised his gloved hand to his face as a sudden burst of energy rushed through his veins. Rotating it, he stared at the array on the back of the glove… and suddenly began to understand.

He could feel them; Mustang's memories, and knowledge, slowly trickling into his mind.

Raising his eyes to meet Father's, who was watching him more intently than ever, he smirked and held his arm out, poising his fingers to snap. In one, fluid motion he struck his thumb and middle finger against each other, producing a small spark. And from that spark rose a small, fleeting flame.

It was enough, he thought to himself as he looked back at Father, who was wearing a rare and pleased smile…

Enough to know that he had at last taken hold of the Flame Alchemist's soul.

* * *

He was surprised that his senses were still intact enough to be able to find them. But here Ling was, standing beside the bed of his most loyal subject, watching as she took shallow, gasping breaths while in her drug-induced slumber.

Kneeling down beside her so that the moonlight shining through the window bathed her in its glow, he dared not move any further, for fear that his new body would harm her if he even thought to touch her.

All of this had happened because of him. Had he had his guard up, they would have never been ambushed, and she would have been left unscathed…

The creature within him, this "Greed," had been gracious enough to allow Ling to deliver a message to her; a warning. Reaching into his pocket, he produced a bandage cloth with letters only he and his subjects could understand, and laid it next to her.

The moment he put it down, he felt Greed stirring again and he knew that his time was up. Now he would whole-heartedly surrender himself to it, just as he had promised. Just as he rose to his feet, however, he heard something shift. Whipping his head around, he saw a pair of eyes shining through the darkness, fixated on him.

"Young Lord?"

Feeling the rush of adrenaline that had torn through him begin to subside, Ling let go of the breath he had been holding.

Elated to see him once more, the old man took a step toward him, but Ling raised his hand and halted him. "Don't come any closer, Fu," he warned.

"But Young Lord," his subject objected as he took another step toward him, "You have returned! Please, why would you—"

"I order you to stop."

At that Fu froze, his eyes widened in a mix of confusion and concern.

"Listen closely, Fu," Ling began authoritatively, "When Lan Fan recovers, I want the two of you to return to Xing. I have secured a Philosopher's Stone and—"

With a gasp, Fu muttered, "Young Lord, this means that—"

Feeling Greed's violent push, Ling stumbled back and raised a hand to his face. Peering at Fu from between his fingers, he uttered, "He's going to take control. There's no time, Fu. Just listen and… take Lan Fan and…-"

_"That's enough, brat,"_ the Homunculus growled as it grasped Ling and began to drag him down.

**"Wait** ," he cried internally as he clawed at the darkness that began to surround him,  **"Just give me another minute. Let me—"**

The Homunculus laughed.  _"I gave you more than enough time, you little prick. You've already given away a hell of a lot of information-"_

"I'm sorry," Ling gasped as he turned away, pushing against Greed with every last bit of strength he had. Before Fu could begin to counter him, the Xingese prince leapt through the window he had entered from and took off into the night's darkness, as Greed once again took hold of him.

* * *

After walking in silence for the entire length of their trip back to Dr. Knox's house, Alphonse could no longer take it. He needed to break through the reticence; he needed to hear his brother's thoughts.

That entire period from finding out about the Colonel and Lieutenant to that very moment was spent lost in intense thought. Whether he was getting ready for bed or eating, Alphonse could see Edward mulling over every alchemical equation he knew, his mind constantly revving at full-throttle. And despite checking, Al was convinced that his older brother had not slept at all the previous night… and now he was beginning to doubt that Edward would get any sleep this night as well.

So much had happened. So much that they had yet to explain or understand. With Winry and Dr. Knox constantly working with Lan Fan, they had yet to explain anything to them… Not that they knew what to say anyways. It would only be a matter of time before Winry's focus when from her patient back to the two brothers. And when that happened, Alphonse wasn't sure  _what_  they would say.

All they knew was that the Colonel and Lieutenant were clearly still there and fighting against the Homunculi that had somehow taken control of their bodies. They had passed information, but only enough to leave more questions than answers; questions that were proving to be almost too much for the brothers.

How were they taken? Who was Father? Was it possible to free the Colonel and Lieutenant? So many questions, and so few answers…

But all Alphonse wanted at that moment was to talk to Edward, to see where his brother was mentally after the way that meeting had gone…

"Brother," Alphonse began, just as a soft, yet distinct sound sliced through the nighttime air. Jumping, Alphonse turned toward the noise just as Edward took a step forward and took on a fighting stance.

Glaring into the darkness, Edward growled, "Who's there?"

Squinting his soul-fire eyes, Alphonse was able to make out two shapes heading toward them; one of them massive and walking heavily, the other petite and virtually silent.

As Alphonse readied himself to fight as well, a familiar voice rang through the air.

"Just a simple housewife."

Relaxing his stance immediately, he watched as Izumi and Sig Curtis stepped out of the darkness and into the glow of the streetlamp above them. Folding her arms across her chest, she then remarked, "Now, is that any way to greet your former teacher?"


	6. Chapter 6

When Edward did not characteristically retort something in response, Izumi furrowed her brows and stepped closer to them. "Boys," she began as she looked from the elder to the younger, "What's wrong? What did your call—"

"Wait," Edward muttered, "Let's discuss this at another place. Please, Teacher."

Izumi closed her mouth, eyeing the young boy with newfound intent. Not only did he look exhausted and weary; no, there was a sadness in his eyes that she had only seen once before. For him to display that profound an emotion, she knew something was seriously wrong.

And coupled with that sadness was another emotion, one she knew all too well. One she saw on his face every time the thought of that night crossed his mind. There was exhaustion. There was sadness. And there was guilt.

Heeding the boy's request, Izumi nodded and fell into step beside them as they led she and Sig down the street and toward the one house that still had its porch light on.

* * *

Rebecca had been getting tended to when she heard them bring him in. Overcome with impatience, she jumped up knocked the small tray table over that held the bandages and gauze one of the bargirls has been using to wrap her neck. Muttering a quick apology and a promise to clean it up in a few minutes, Rebecca was halfway to the door when a hand caught her wrist. Whirling around, she saw the girl, who had introduced herself as Clara, holding her wrist. A deep frown formed on the other woman's face and Rebecca eased up on her pull.

After seeing Rebecca's expression, however, Clara's face softened. "I know you're worried, Miss Catalina, but if I could keep you here for just one more moment I won't need you again."

Another moment longer seemed like an eternity to Rebecca. She could hear Jean's voice in the other room asking about her and it took everything for her to not shout out to let him know that she was _right there_. She was so close and yet... she felt miles away from him. But the tantalizing notion that she would not be pulled away once she was tended to on her over. Swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat, Rebecca finally muttered, "Alright." She slowly edged back over to the seat she had been in and dropped to her knees, hurriedly picking up the medical supplies she had knocked to the ground. A moment later Clara got down next to her and helped gather everything else.

Then she slipped into the chair again and dropped the supplies on the tray table as Clara righted it again. Leaning forward and bracing her elbows against her knees, she waited impatiently as the girl dabbed alcohol onto a cotton swab. When she reached up and began pressing it against the side of Rebecca's neck, however, Rebecca let out a sudden hiss of pain.

"I'm sorry," the girl murmured as she pulled the cotton ball away, "I didn't realize it would hurt you so much."

"No, it's fine," Rebecca said as she shook her head and leaned forward again, "I guess I just wasn't expecting it to be as deep as it is."

Shooting her an empathetic smile, the girl admitted, "It _is_ a decent size, Miss Catalina. That's why I wanted to get it bandaged quickly."

"Right," the brunette murmured passively as Clara pressed the cotton swab to her neck. This time she felt nothing.

_It_ is _a decent size…_ She honestly hadn't thought that the wounds on either side of her neck were that large. Then again, she hadn't looked in a mirror or paid much notice to it since she had gotten to the inconspicuous little tavern. But if they were as 'decently-sized' as the girl said they were… then that meant Lust really had gone for the kill.

She nearly died… and by her best friend's hand too.

And yet, in a strange way the entire situation brought her a small sense of comfort. Lust had gone for the kill – _had fully intended on it_ – and yet she couldn't because Riza stopped her. That meant there was still hope, right?

Right...?

"All finished."

Her thoughts interrupted, Rebecca blinked.

"I'm all finished," she said again as she set the roll of bandages on the tray table.

Reaching up, Rebecca confirmed that there was an ample amount of gauze and bandages wrapped around her throat. Brushing her fingers across the front and to the side of her neck, she could feel where the wound was, as well as the layers of gauze pads that were placed on top one another to absorb any additional blood.

"Thank you," she murmured as she pulled her hand away. "I really appreciate it."

"No problem," Clara said with a light smile. Pushing the tray table over to the side, she invited Rebecca to stand.

After flashing her one more smile, Rebecca stepped around her and began to make her way toward the voices she had been hearing. Pausing in the doorway, she rested a hand on the doorframe and strained to listen. After a few moments, she determined that the voices were coming from upstairs. Gripping the railing, she slowly eased her way up the staircase. Almost immediately the voices hushed as their owners too stopped to listen. Clearing her throat, she called, "It's just me guys," as she made it to the top.

Not giving her eyes enough time to adjust to the room's poor lighting, she instantly honed in on the sandy-haired individual propped upright on the small single bed that was pushed into the corner before realizing that there were three other men in addition to him in the room. Keeping her focus on him, however, she began to make her way over to his bed.

The men parted and made a small path for her as the corners of Jean's lip tugged upward. When she had made her way past them, they muttered something under their breaths, most likely a 'see you later' or some words of parting, to which he replied with something else. Honestly, she hadn't heard. She was too focused on her relief; too focused on him. After making it to his bed, Rebecca heard the last of the three men mill out, closing the door behind them to give Jean and her the privacy they deserved.

"Hey," she murmured as she sat down on the edge of the bed, "Sorry I didn't call. As you probably heard, things got a little—" She trailed off, however, when she realized that he wasn't listening, his eyes fixed on her neck. Suddenly feeling self-conscious about the bulgy wrap of bandages, she reached up to touch them when he shifted and propped himself up on his elbow. Using his free hand, he brushed his fingers over the gauze and wrappings before pressing his palm against her hand.

Looking back at him, her face fell, seeing that his expression had changed drastically. "Jean…?"

He swallowed thickly, his face contorting with pain as his eyes wandered up to hers.

"Je—"

"I'm sorry," he choked out as his fingers curled around her hand. "I just let you go and look what happened."

Rebecca shook her head and began to say, "There isn't anything to be sorry for. I—"

"There's everything to be sorry for," he gasped. "I let you go alone and you were nearly killed because of it." Pulling away from her and falling back against the pillows that were propping him up, he laid his arm over his eyes and uttered, "If I could actually move these damn legs, then maybe I would have been there to protect you."

"Jean," she tried to console him, "What do you mean by that? There's nothing you could have—"

"I've felt those spears, Rebecca. I know what they're capable of. She… she could have cut your head off!"

Reaching forward and grabbing his hand and pulling his arm away from his eyes, she held it between her own and eyed him confidently. "But she didn't, Jean. She didn't because it's just like you said. Riza is still in there. She's  _fighting_."

"I know that," he uttered, "Because you're here right now. I know, I know. But if something had happened and she didn't protect you, where would you be now?"

Her mind immediately jumped to _six feet under_ , but she dared not utter that phrase for both herself and him. "I know, Jean. I know. But you need to understand that what's done is done. It's over… but I'm still here."

He swallowed and said, "I know… But the thought of what could have happened is what's killing me, Becks. It's because I let you go alone that this even happened."

"Would you feel better if I took one of the guys with me every time I went out? Knowing that I was with someone?"

Casting his glare down and toward his idle legs, he murmured, "It would, yes. But," he continued as he raised his eyes to meet hers, "I wish it were me."

Feeling her hold on his hand loosen, she felt him pull away. Instead of gripping the sheets or laying his arms across his eyes, he reached up and brushed his fingers across her cheek. She moved closer and bowed her head as he pushed himself upward and onto his elbow once again. Leaning his head forward, he rested his forehead against hers and repeated, "I wish it were me…"

* * *

When they reached Dr. Knox's house, Edward did not even bother to knock. Instead, he clumsily reached out and fumbled around with the door handle before grasping and turning it open. The moment he walked in, he was instantly greeted by a very concerned Winry Rockbell. "Ed, Al, where have you two—" She stopped herself, however, when she looked Edward in the eye. Taking a step forward, she murmured, "Ed…?"

That's when she noticed too that the boys were not alone. With a small gasp, she took a step back and watched as Edward led his brother and the two strangers inside.

Rather than passing her, Izumi stopped and said, "You must be Winry Rockbell. We've heard a lot about you from Ed and Al." Extending her hand to the young girl, she added, "My name is Izumi Curtis and this is my husband, Sig. We're both—"

"Oh," Winry said, "You're Ed and Al's alchemy teachers."

"That's right," Izumi said with a small nod.

"It's... nice to meet you," Winry murmured, "Although… I don't remember Ed saying you two were coming. If I had remembered, I would have cleaned up a bit and—"

"It was last minute," Edward muttered as he shoved his hands in his pockets. "I called them here because I needed to discuss something important with Teacher."

Clearly seeing that Edward was trying to herd them toward the living room, Izumi suggested, "How about we go and sit down?"

"You can follow me," Alphonse proposed, taking the lead and ushering Izumi and Sig toward Dr. Knox's couches and chairs.

Just as Edward was about to follow, Winry grasped his arm and pulled him back toward her. When he looked back at her, he saw a look of concern cross her features. "Ed," she asked quietly, as to not alert the newcomers to their conversation, "What is this about? Is this related to the reason why you haven't been around these past couple of days?"

"It is," he admitted after a few moments. "You don't have to stay if you don't want to; I'll understand. I can tell you about it later if you want."

Giving his arm a light squeeze, she said, "Ed, I've been worried about you. I need to stay because I want to know."

Almost feeling as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, he allowed his shoulders to sag as he said, "Alright, just… Just wait for me to finish before saying anything. I just really want to get through it as quickly as possible."

"Okay," she replied as she loosened her grip on his arm, allowing him to pull it free.

Taking a step away from her, he allowed her to lead him into the living room. Just as he took a seat on one of the couches next to Teacher and across from Winry, Dr. Knox appeared in the doorway.

Pulling out the toothpick he had wedged between his lips, he eyed every individual in the room before muttering, "Ah, more guests. _Please_ make yourself at home."

"Sorry," Alphonse apologized from his seat next to Winry, "But we had to call them. We need to talk to them as soon as we can."

Knox lifted his brows and grumbled, "Is this about what that girl, Lan Fan, said?" When Al nodded, the doctor dipped his head in understanding. Sinking down into the armchair nearest his fireplace, he said, "The sedatives just took hold again, so I've got a moment." Replacing the toothpick, he added, "I'd like to hear what you have to say."

Seeing that everyone had settled themselves and had shown no signs of moving or leaving, Ed sighed. While he was thankful that he wouldn't have to explain it for the second time that day, he was also unsure of how to approach telling them. Last time he had Mustang's men to help ease him into the story for the General and Madame, but now it was just Al and him.

He decided, however, that he would approach it the way he had originally intended to with Teacher: By having her recall what she did know first.

"Do you remember when we fought that person in Dublith?"

Izumi furrowed her brows. "You mean that one that claimed to be a Homunculus, right?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said as he leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees, entwining his steel and flesh fingers. After looking down at them for a few moments, still struggling with the words in his head, he glanced up to see that her focus was intently on him. Letting go a slow sigh, he continued, "There's more than one out there."

"More," she asked as she furrowed her brows. "How many more?"

Edward moved his shoulders up and down and admitted, "I can't say for sure. But since Dublith we've encountered at least three more."

"Three," she echoed. When he nodded, she added, "Is that the reason you called? Because there are more of them?"

"In a way, yes."

Seemingly confused by his response, Izumi continued to leer at him, her expression demanding that he elaborate.

Feeling his shoulders slump as another breath escaped him, Edward then murmured, "Have you ever heard of the possibility that a Philosopher's Stone could have a consciousness? A personality or disposition that it could take on?"

Her lips turned downward in a frown as she mulled over the likelihood and possibility in her mind. He could see that she was considering it, genuinely thinking about it. That was good. It meant that she was, at the very least, willing to think about the possibility. But after a minute of concentrated thought, she shook her head and admitted, "I haven't heard of something like that; I suppose it isn't outside the realm of possibility. But," she continued as her confusion grew, "I don't understand what you're getting at, Edward."

"I seem all over the place, I know," he said with a half-hearted smile, "But I'm getting to it, I promise. I figured I'd see if you had any information before I went on."

After she slowly shook her head again to convey that she did not have anything to give him, he said, "Since our journey began, Al and I have seen Stones that have ranged from a solid mass to a viscous liquid." Looking up and toward Al and focusing on his brother's soul-fire eyes, he continued, "We've even seen them working as a functional core, like a heart."

When Izumi focused her attention on her younger pupil, Alphonse nodded and said, "It's true. Colonel Mustang almost killed one by depleting its Stone of its power."

"Almost," Izumi mused as she looked between the two brothers.

"Yeah," Edward clarified as she focused on him once more, "Almost.

"So now imagine that the viscous form of the Stone is injected into a person's vein, allowing it to mix in with and spread throughout the body. If the Stone has a consciousness like we believe it does and it circulates throughout every part of the body, then you think there'd be a chance that it could completely take over. And if so, what could be done to remove it."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dr. Knox's lips part slightly as his expression changed to one of realization. If he knew what Edward was getting at, surely she would see it too. So when he looked at his teacher, he was not surprised to see that her expression mirrored the doctor's. "So what you're telling me," she began slowly, "Is that you think there is a chance a Homunculus could be created using a human being?"

"I don't think 'there's a chance,'" he replied, "Because I  _know_  that it's possible, and now I want to know if you think it's possible to reverse it."

Izumi opened her mouth to respond but then shut it, only to open it again and say, "How do you know it's possible?"

"Do you think there's a way of reversing it," he asked desperately.

"Edward," she started again, "How do you know it's possible?"

"I want to know if you think it's—"

"Edward," she snapped, done with his attempts at avoiding the subject, "I need you to tell me how you know it's possible,  _then_  I will tell you my thoughts."

At last coming to the part of the conversation he was dreading, Edward turned his focus down to his hands, which here folded in his lap. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Al doing the same, entwining his massive gloved fingers together in anxious anticipation of Edward's response.

Up until that point he had distanced himself from the reality of the situation by focusing on the alchemical process he had devised in his mind. He had spent what seemed like countless hours engrossed in the topic, constantly turning it over and changing it in his mind until he was at last pleased with the scenario. But now, hearing Teacher's demands for how he knew it was possible brought him back to the situation, making it all the more real once again.

This wasn't just a hypothesis he made up for laughs or speculation; no, it was a possibility, a reality. Something that was real and tangible. This was about Mustang and Hawkeye and how to save them.

"Edward…"

He looked up, only to find that Teacher had kneeled in front of him, her hands on both of his shoulders. Blinking once, twice, her worried expression came into better focus as his eyes adjusted to the change.

"You're dodging the question, Ed," she said softly. "I need you to please tell me how you know this to be true, because you seem to have thought about this a lot since I talked to you on the phone."

Casting his glance toward Al, he saw that his younger brother was watching him intently, though he had not made a move to answer. Slowly letting his eyes wander around the room, he saw that Winry, Dr. Knox, and Sig all had their eyes on him. Then he allowed himself to face Izumi again, although he directed his gaze toward the floor. Finally letting go of the breath he hadn't realized he was holding, Edward murmured, "My commanding officer and his first Lieutenant. It happened to them."

Immediately following his statement, he heard a quiet gasp. Turning his head, he saw Winry with her hands clapped over her mouth, her eyes wide with shock. Though she wasn't knowledgeable in alchemy and many of its properties, he knew that she was aware of the presence of the Homunculi; especially after that encounter where Al was nearly shredded to pieces by…

Pushing the thought away, he looked away from her, seeing that Dr. Knox too seemed shocked. His mouth was hanging open slightly, surprise reflected in his dark eyes. He out of the others in the room was the next person besides Edward himself and Alphonse to know that the possibility was there, especially after seeing Lan Fan's reaction to that picture in the newspaper of Mustang and his men. Still, the doctor's expression also told Edward that he didn't want it to be true.

"Edward…"

Looking back toward Teacher, he saw something he didn't expect to see in her eyes: pain. Whether it was for the situation or for him, he wasn't sure. Maneuvering him so that she could see his face more clearly, she uttered, "You're sure? You're absolutely sure that it was them and not someone impersonating them? These... things seem capable of a lot. Surely there are some that can change their form."

"Yeah," he muttered with a languid bob of his head. "We're sure it's them. They… they managed to talk to us."

"Talk to you?" she asked softly.

He nodded. "They managed to break free for a few moments to warn us…" Looking into her eyes for the first time that evening, he said, "I knew right then that it was them."

"When did you see them?" she gently pried.

"The other day." Edward watched as Izumi turned toward the metallic voice that interrupted them. Seeing that their attention was now on him, Alphonse looked down and began to anxiously rub his gloved hands together, then went on. "The other day in the Colonel's office… We saw them alter between the Homunculi and themselves. They tried to tell us what they could and," he added as his voice grew quiet, "They told us to 'end them.'"

"And there's no way we could do that," Edward said as he balled his hands into fists. "There's no way!"

"Ed… Al," Izumi said as she looked between the two boys. "? You clearly have what happened worked out, or at least a very believable possibility. But did you stop to think that maybe they know something you don't? That maybe there isn't—"

"Don't say that!" Leaping up from his seat, Edward glared down at his teacher in disbelief. "We've heard it time and time again. 'Nothing is impossible…' We need to at least believe that if we want to find a way!"

Izumi opened her mouth to counter him, but something about his expression or words stopped her from saying what words had immediately come to her mind. After closing her mouth and reflecting on what he had said, she got to her feet and put her hands on his shoulders again. "Is that what you've been doing since you called me, Ed?" Before he could answer, she continued, "I can see it in your eyes. You haven't slept since then, have you?"

He should have known that she'd be as perceptive as ever. Casting his eyes away from her face, he lied, "Yeah, I've slept a little…"

From the corner of his eye he could see her frown. She caught him. It figured. But instead of scolding him and calling him out on his little lie or bringing up the fact that they were part of the military she despised, she simply shook her head slowly and said, "They're obviously very important to you, Ed."

"They don't deserve it," he muttered, keeping his glare fixed on the floorboards. "They don't deserve being prisoners in their own bodies." He clenched his fists to stop their tremble and gasped, "It isn't fair."

With a sigh, she pulled him into her, and for once he did not fight her. Instead, he rested his head on her shoulder and shuddered. Raising a hand, she gently pressed his head against her shoulder as she freed her other hand and silently invited Alphonse, who had gotten to his feet, over to them.

Edward heard the clambering, metallic steps as his brother wandered over to them and stopped. Then he heard him creak and groan as he bowed his head forward.

Oblivious to the cool metal and uncomfortable angle the young boy was standing at, Izumi wrapped her arm around his body and cradled his head against her other shoulder, embracing the two young boys.

"You can say what you want about the military," Edward muttered into her shirt, "But they don't deserve it. I… I won't let them die."

"I know," she replied. "I'll admit that I don't know anything about this, certainly not as much as you; but if you believe there's a chance then I will help any way that I can."

"… Thank you," he murmured as he pulled away.

Just as she was about to reply, Edward saw something over her shoulder and in the hallway. Feeling the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, he zeroed in on it, only to discover that it was Fu.

Seeing that Edward had spotted him, the old man grumbled, "You said that your friends had been taken by those monsters, right?" When Ed furrowed his brows and dipped his head in acknowledgement, Fu continued, "Then I ask that you free Master Ling as well. For he too was taken by them."

* * *

They had searched high and low for days now, and there was still no sign of the young Xingese girl's small, furry friend. With each passing day, Scar had found himself growing less and less certain that they would find her, whereas the young girl's determination only seemed to grow.

"She has to be around here somewhere! She wouldn't just disappear," May reasoned as she led him down the same alleyway they had explored the day before.

Rather than argue with her, knowing that it would fall on deaf ears, Scar willingly trudged along behind her, having decided that this would be the final day they searched. There were more pressing matters to attend to…

Just as they passed by a large drainpipe, Scar froze, something bright red catching his eye. Taking a step back, he saw a copious amount of dried blood on its inner surface, the rest of it that would have been on the outside having been washed away with the previous day's rain. Stooping down next to it, he reached into it and swept his fingers over it, confirming that it was old and dried.

Still, something pressed for him to advance. Ducking down, he crept into the tunnel, finding that, while it was tight, he would be able to advance without getting stuck.

"Mr. Scar?"

Turning to look over his shoulder, he saw May looking toward him warily.

Nodding down to the floor to make the blood stain known to her, he muttered, "You may continue searching if you wish. There is something that needs to be tended to."

"So you sense it too," she asked as she reached up to wipe away the sweat that had accumulated on her brow. She must have seen a faint look of surprise cross his features, because she followed up by murmuring, "There's something down there… And it's big."

* * *

Despite warning the girl against following him, Scar soon found himself leading her through the airshafts that ran below the city's surface. In a fit of desperation, she had convinced herself that if her furry companion was not above ground, then perhaps she was below. Maybe she had sensed that presence, whatever it was, and had followed it in the hopes that her owner would do the same?

At least that's what he had determined after listening to her reason with herself for the past ten minutes. So when she grew quiet, he immediately stopped and turned to look over his shoulder at her.

"Hello?"

That voice… A man's?

Seeing that she was looking down through the grating she had stopped on, Scar backtracked to do the same.

Indeed, there was a man down below, his head craned back and looking directly up at them. "Hello," he called again, "Is someone there?"

May opened her mouth to speak, but a hardened glare from Scar caused her to exhale and clamp her jaw shut. However, that small gasp alerted the man to their presence.

"Are you from the outside? How did you get in here?!"

Realizing that they had been discovered, and sensing that the man could do little harm to them, Scar growled, "First tell me about yourself. Who are you? And what are you doing down here?"

An expression of relief and shock spread across the man's features. "My name's Dr. Mauro. I want to know what's going on outside. Please come down."

Clenching his jaw, Scar hesitated to answer him back. The young girl, however, had no problem doing that. "Are you a prisoner?"

Surprised that there were two individuals rather than one, 'Dr. Mauro' said, "Yes, I am. But please come down. The guard won't be coming around for a while."

Hearing the sound of metal scraping against metal, Scar looked up in time to see that May had pushed the grating away and was already dropping down from their hiding place to meet the man. Following after, he landed next to her and slowly rose to his feet, watching the man's eyes scan from May over to him.

"A young Xingese girl," 'Dr. Mauro' muttered, "And an Ishvalan." A beat later, however, his eyes widened. "An Ishvalan with a scar on his forehead?! Are you 'Scar,' the one who's been killing all the State Alchemists?"

"… So they call me," Scar replied hardly.

The man stood transfixed for a moment, processing the information in his mind. Then, much to their surprise, he began to laugh, burying his face into his hands. "My god…"

"What is a doctor doing here," May asked as she began to look around the room, looking for signs of her companion.

"Are you being detained," Scar asked, allowing the girl to continue to search as the man pulled his hands away from his face.

"Yes," he said as he looked down at his shaking hands. "They force me to cooperate. And they're going to use me even more."

At the vague mention of 'they,' Scar's thoughts turned to the creatures they had encountered, especially the one they encountered recently: Mustang's subordinate, the woman with the healing wound. "With those 'things' called Homunculi," he asked. "What are they? They seem to know everything about the Ishvalan Civil War."

'Dr. Mauro' nodded. "It's true. They control this country from the shadows. Their power is overwhelming, their methods a mystery.

"I… I hate myself for letting them take me without even putting up a fight!"

Coming back into the conversation, May quipped, "If you don't want to join them, Dr. Mauro, why not escape and fight them? We could lead you outside and away from here."

"I can't do that," he said as his hands relaxed and fell to his side, and he bowed his head in shame. "An entire village is being held hostage. Last time I tried to hide from them, I took refuge under a new name in a small eastern village. That's how they were able to pressure me.

"They vowed that if I tried to escape or even kill myself… They'll destroy the entire village." Sinking to the ground and folding his hands in his lap, he uttered, "And no, it's not just a threat. I have no doubt they would. So please don't take me out with you…"

Feeling anger bubbling within him, Scar growled, "My people have been all put wiped out. Do you honestly think I would feel pity over a story like that?"

"I know," the man admitted. "You must truly hate us. That's why I have a favor to ask of you…" Closing his eyes, he swallowed thickly and uttered, "I want you to kill me." Ignoring May's gasp, he opened his eyes and looked up at Scar. "My real name is Tim Marcoh. I am the alchemist who created the Philosopher's Stone that led to the murder of your people."

When he heard those words, Scar felt his insides begin to churn.

"My research has taken the lives of countless Ishvalans. I am your nemesis. Whether I refuse to cooperate with the Homunculi or choose to take my own life, innocent villagers will be killed. Undoubtedly, even if I continue to live, I'll be utilized as a 'sacrifice' and contribute to the slaughter of countless more people.

"So please," he begged quietly, "Allow the girl to leave and kill me. If I'm killed by an intruder from the outside, the lives of the villagers can be saved. And if I'm dead, them my captors' plan can be thwarted… Or at the very least delayed.

"It is a stroke of luck that you, an alchemist assassin, arrived here when I was alone and powerless…"

Looking up at him once more, he continued, "Scar… I see a deity in you. Kill me! Right here and now! I will atone for my sins with death—"

No longer able to control the rage he had pent up, Scar lunged forward and grabbed Marcoh's face, slamming him into the ground. Pushing May off of his arm and ignoring her scream, he seethed, "I still haven't heard the full story about Ishval yet! What were you bastards really doing there?! Tell me everything Marcoh,  _before_  my right hand destroys you!"

* * *

"I'm surprised," 'the General' mused as he leaned back against his desk and eyed the three men that remained sitting at theirs. "I thought you had resigned, seeing that you all failed to show up yesterday."

"We had a good reason not to," Breda growled as he eyed the Homunculus warily. "And besides, we all called in."

"True," 'Mustang' said with a mild shrug, "And I have to say that I'm impressed you came back so quickly. After all, I'd imagine this must be difficult for you to process."

Not giving him the satisfaction he craved, Breda grumbled, "Well, someone has to watch out for the Colonel."

"How sweet," he muttered sarcastically as he folded his arms over his chest. Casting his glance toward Fuery, he added, "Holding up alright,  _Sergeant_?"

Upon being addressed, the younger man, who had been staring down at his desk the entire time, managed to nod quickly, muttering a soft "yes" in reply.

"That's wonderful to hear," the Homunculus responded with feigned sympathy. "And speaking of someone holding up alright, there seems to be a certain someone missing from the hospital today." Looking from Breda to Falman, the Homunculus scoffed, "You two wouldn't happen to know where Jean Havoc might be, would you?"

Shrugging in reply, Breda uttered, "I dunno. Maybe his family took him out for a prolonged stroll. He did mention that the hospital air was a bit stuffy." Seeing that Wrath was clearly unamused by his antics, the Second Lieutenant decided that it was his turn to pry. "So," he asked as he eyed 'the General' with a critical glare, "Where's our favorite lieutenant?"

A sinister smile crossed the Homunculus's face. "The Lieutenant is... running a few errands today."

* * *

As Marcoh finished his tale and grew quiet, Scar quietly folded his arms across his chest and glared at him. May, sensing the sheer amount of disgust radiating off of him, had wisely decided to sit quietly, her hands woven together and in her lap.

After allowing the silence to continue on and after he had processed what the doctor told him, Scar rumbled, "So the Stone that was used to massacre my people was created out of the lives of other Ishvalans?" When Marcoh looked up at him, Scar could clearly see the confirmation and guilt in his eyes. Feeling that swell of anger consume him once more, he sprang up again, and grabbed Marcoh by the collar of his shift and hoisted him into the air. He heard the young girl cry out again, but he elected to ignore her once more.

"You forced my countrymen to kill their own people! Don't  _think_  I'm going to let you die so easily!"

"I understand," Marcoh gasped, "I'll do  _anything_  to atone my sins."

Clenching his teeth and turning his head away, Scar slammed Marcoh to the ground and stumbled over to the wall, the anger and hurt consuming him. Pounding his fist against the wall, he leaned forward and began to breathe heavily, trying to push everything down as his mind began to clear… and his thoughts began to race.

There was still so much more he did not know… And that could not be done here.

He heard May patter over to the man and whisper something to him, most likely helping him sit up. After taking a final, deep breath, he uttered, "Marcoh," as he turned around. "Tell me more about the alchemist named Kimblee."

Genuinely surprised by Scar's question, the doctor stammered, "Ah… Alright."

"Also," he continued as he slowly unclenched his fists, "There was one section of my brother's research that I could not decipher. Before he died, he told me that there was something strange about this country's alchemy. I'm guessing that is what he wrote in his notes.

"You are a skilled alchemist. Can you decipher it?"

"'There's something strange about this country's alchemy,'" Marcoh repeated back to him as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully, turning away from Scar and May to think. Then, jerking his head upward, he said, "I'll try."

"Good," Scar replied, "Now I'm breaking you—"

"What's this?" a new voice suddenly purred.

Snapping his head around and toward the voice, he saw Mustang's subordinate, the blonde-haired woman, step forward from the shadows as a second, larger shape crept up and stopped behind her.

Grinning widely as her gloved fingers elongated and took on the shape of spears, she mused, "Leaving so soon?"

* * *

Another sleepless night had visited Edward again. This time, however, he knew he wasn't alone. Despite everyone going off in their respective directions after Fu explained his encounter with Ling. While Edward was relieved knowing that he was still alive, he also knew that, judging by the encounter Fu had described, he too had been taken. Just like the Colonel and Lieutenant.

When they reconvened in the morning, Edward could see the exhaustion in their eyes.

Even Winry looked exhausted, her eyes slightly reddened and her expression solemn as she made her way down the stairs that morning. But before Edward could even begin to console her, Dr. Knox announced that they had run out of gauze and bandages. With his upcoming shift, however, it was impossible to for him to depart and pick up the necessary supplies while still finishing his morning treatments for Lan Fan.

So now here they were; himself, Alphonse, Izumi, and Winry. The four of them were making the trip to the nearest supply store in order to stock up on as much supplies as possible, because for now it was too dangerous to go alone.

As they rounded the corner and onto the street their destination was on, the round beneath their feet trembled as an explosion tore through the air.

Leaving Izumi and Winry behind, Edward and Al raced ahead and turned down the first alley they came upon and came to a halt. The buildings on the opposite end of the narrow road were no longer standing, reduced to a pile of rubbish and bricks. Standing atop the pile, grinning down at the two figures standing at the bottom, was Hawkeye – no, Edward reminded himself – Lust. And beside her, hunched over and regenerating from the explosion, was Gluttony.

Edward immediately recognized two of the three additional individuals as the young Xingese girl they had encountered days before and Scar. When he got closer, he also saw that the other person was lying just beyond the rubble, with bricks scattered about them.

Just as they skidded to a stop a few meters behind Scar and the young girl, Lust looked up at them and smirked. "Well, isn't this a surprise? I figured you'd be too busy looking for a way to free the Colonel and Lieutenant." Narrowing her eyes playfully, she added, "I guess I was wrong."

"Hawkeye," Edward cried as he took a step forward, "Are you there? Answer me if you—"

He was cut off by her laugh. "The Lieutenant won't be coming out to play for a while, I'm afraid. She's far too spent to even say 'hello.'" When she heard footsteps approaching beyond Edward and Alphonse, she looked past the two boys and smiled. "It seems you've brought company. It's a shame you had to visit while I was working. Why don't you come back after I've taken care of Scar?"

At the mention of his name, the man lunged toward her. Before he made it halfway up to them, Gluttony launched itself at the Ishvalan man, its jaws wide and ready to latch down on his perceived prey.

Much to the beast's surprise, the scarred man effortlessly dodged his jaw and slammed his right hand against its head. A series of blue sparks rocked through its body before diving through it, blasting it to pieces.

Panic immediately took hold of Edward as he instinctively rushed forward, now seeing who Scar's _real_ target was.

Extending his hand as he began to dart up the pile of rubble and toward Scar, he watched in horror as the man dodged Lust's attack and grabbed her by the throat.

Despite his deep-seated knowledge of their regenerative capabilities, the vision of Hawkeye being killed dangled before his mind's eye. He couldn't see it. Couldn't allow it to happen. Not while she was still in there somewhere.

No… He would _not_ let it happen.

As Scar's tell-tale blue sparks began to flit around his arm, Edward cried, "Stop," as he closed in on them.

He saw Scar flinch and hesitate when his cry reached his ears. That hesitation proved to be the man's downfall as Edward watched Lust's spears tear through Scar's abdomen.

**Author's Note:**

> I've decided to post this work here as well! The original concept was conceived by liberty_flight on Tumblr. This work will include nearly all of the canon characters and will explore many of the relationships between the characters, whether they be romantic, parental, or friendship. I have more of this written out, but would like to edit each chapter before posting it, so expect regular updates until I catch up with what I have written so far. As always, comments are welcome. Enjoy~!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Insurrections](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8405248) by [horrorterroronesie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/horrorterroronesie/pseuds/horrorterroronesie)




End file.
